Through The Darkness
by DeppsLadyRosebud
Summary: A horrific accident brings an end to the beloved impala and to the light for the youngest of the Winchester brothers Struggling with the darkness and the obstacles that he encounters along the way learn to live again? Editing & returning to finish 3/7/10
1. Forward revised on 3710

Title: **Through The Darkness**Category: TV Shows » SupernaturalAuthor: Lady Rosebud : : English, Rating: Rated: TGenre: Angst/Generaloriginally Published: 09-25-07

**Summary: **_A horrific "accident" brings an end to the beloved impala and to the light for the youngest of the Winchester brothers. Struggling with the darkness and the obstacles that he encounters along the way can Sam Winchester really learn to live again? The trouble only intensifies when he realizes his sight may be gone but his visions still remain. _

_Sam isn't the only one who's found himself battling inner demons as Dean realizes he can't save Sammy this time and deals with a decision that will change their lives forever no matter what he decides... _

_And what about the, "accident"? Was it just that, or was it much more? Like say Vengeance from an old...friend?_

**Forward**

Sam Winchester sat silently still on a stack of beat up old tires out in front of the musty smelling junkyard which he and his brother had been calling home for the past two plus months, a warm mug of what he assumed was supposed to be coffee pressed against his hands. The sun had long since set as the hours passed by giving way to the night, a bitter and cold breeze biting against his flesh. Still he sat oblivious to the night and the cold lost deep in his own thoughts.

His mind had taken him back once again to a time not long ago when as screwed up as his life was, happiness still remained, happiness that had since slipped from him and left him hallow and numb to the world around him.

It seemed like only yesterday and at the same time a million years ago, that he and Dean had been out on the open road, two men with a purpose, a job to do, the world was their play thing and nothing could hold them down for long.

From hotel room to hotel room they hopped, saving lives and making a difference as they passed from town to town…. It was a life that Sam never wanted, that he despised with every ounce of his being… It was a life that he would give anything to have back again.

Feeling a gentle nudge against his foot he mindlessly dropped his hand and began to pet the dog who'd appeared at his feet not a word being spoken from his lips as he did so. He found no need for many words these days, words were empty, as empty as his soul.

Dean sighed softly leaning against the doorframe of the small house that rested in the back of the junkyard peering out into the endless darkness of the night. Darkness that was lit only by the small porch light resting above Sam's head casting a bright and eerie aura around his younger brother. Dean could feel his heart breaking more and more as the days slipped by and he found himself helplessly watching what remained of his brother withdrawing further and further from the man he'd once been.

Sam use to be so full of life, so filled with optimism that there were times when it made Dean's stomach turn.

Not anymore though, not since that morning three month ago to the day when darkness fell upon them both and tore the world that they'd known to shreds, with no hope of ever being put back together again.

"Don't you think you should get him inside? It's getting late and winters around here are a bitch."

Dean shifted to see Bobby Singer, one of the few remaining friends the boys had left in the world, and owner of their new found home, standing behind him. With a nod he forced himself up off the doorframe pushing open the screen door and heading in his brother's direction.

"Sammy." He whispered clearing his throat and placing his hand on the seated man's shoulder to steal his attention from wherever his thoughts had taken him now.

The preoccupied man's form jumped nearly three feet in the air as he gripped tighter to the mug in his hand and inhaled.

"Sorry man… I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's alright." Sam's voice was distant and soft, the same way it had been for far to long now.

"It's late. You should come in …"

The younger yet taller man simply rose to his feet and turned to face his brother his head hung low as though he were studying the ground., a defeated posture to match his defeated attitude.

Dean frowned taking Sam's forearm in his grasp and leading the way toward the house, "I was thinking…"

"Well no goods ever come of that now has it?" Even in his state of obvious and over whelming depression the retort seemed to fly so naturally from Sam's lips it was almost comical.

Dean rolled his eyes and sighed, "I'm serious Sam, I think that maybe it's time we leave Bobbies, you know find a place of our own."

"You mean plant roots somewhere so you can take care of your blind brother on your own and stop burdening one of the only people we have left in our lives with our bullshit?"

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to…"

"Sammy, you gotta stop this man. I know these circumstances suck, but you can't just sit out there on that porch and waste the rest of your life thinking about what used to be."

"What life Dean? I don't have a life anymore."

"That's by choice man..."

"Oh yeah because there is so much need in the world for a blind ex-hunter that-"

"Sam stop."

"Boys is everything alright?" Bobby's brows furrowed together as he exited the kitchen and came to stand beside them in the living room as they entered.

"Peachy." Sam grumbled his voice low as he shook his brother's hand from his arm and slowly made his way toward the room the two of them were sharing. "I'm going to bed."

Dean and Bobby watched wordlessly as Sam's hand glided down the wall his feet moving cautiously and carefully further and further away from them until he disappeared into one of the open doors closing it behind him.

The past two months had worn all three of the seasoned hunters down, the long hospital stay Sam's accident had required, the doctor's visits, the piles and piles of fraudulent credit cards, just to pay off the ever mounting medical bills…. the constant worrying.

All of it was weighing down heavily on each one of them as though they were drowning and could not bring their heads to the surface… grasping and yet finding nothing to hold on to.

"He'll be alright…." Bobby whispered trying as best he could to sound reassuring as he noticed the pain and anguish once again return to the eldest brother's gaze.

The truth was neither one of them believed the words Bobby had just spoken no matter how hard he tried to sound confident…

Sam wasn't going to be alright…

Sam was lost…

Detached, Demolished and destroyed by an un-fightable force.

The darkness had devoured his brother, not only on the outside, but on the inside as well… And there was nothing Dean Winchester could do to fix it.


	2. Part One revised 3710

Title: **Through The Darkness**Category: TV Shows » SupernaturalAuthor: Lady Rosebud : : English, Rating: Rated: TGenre: Angst/General

**Chapter One**

Dean sat silently engrossing himself in the morning newspaper and sipping his coffee, a single hour to himself in an otherwise Sam-centric day. He didn't mind taking care of his brother, hell it'd been his single most important purpose since childhood but he'd never imagined a day would come when Sam's dependence on him would grow to such an extent, that his own life would become nearly non-existent. He missed the days when the only care in the world either one of them had was how they were going to vanquish the latest demon and send it screaming back to hell, where they were going to park the impala for the night to catch some zzz's, or which horrible trucker filled dive they were going to find their next meal in. Life was simple then.

The demon they found themselves fighting now was a faceless, nameless one, who Dean knew would remain with them throughout the rest of their days, a demon that they couldn't fight, a demon of true darkness in every sense of the word.

Flipping the page he found himself staring mind numbingly at the words in front of him, the truth was he didn't give a shit about what was going on in the world outside his front door, he didn't care if down the street at Dosey's market lettuce was on sale for fifty-five cents a bunch…. It was all just a lame attempt to extract himself from his grim and mortifying reality… To play pretend and try in vain to forget momentarily about life.

The ring of his cell phone pulled him from his bitter sweet solitude, he reached over and picked it up off the table flipping it open and answering it with a sigh. "Hello?"

"_Yes, hello. May I speak with Mr. Dean Singer please?" _The voice on the end which sounded vaguely familiar asked causing Dean's brows to crease together in question although he could not be seen.

"This is him."

"_Mr. Singer, this is Detective Brady with the Houston P.D."_

"Oh… Hey, what can I do for you detective?" Dean knew now what this call was regarding and inhaled slightly his heartbeat automatically quickening in his chest. Huston Texas was a place he'd never forget, place he never wanted to set foot in again.

"_I am calling in regards to-"_

"I know what this is in regards to…" The anxious man couldn't help but sound curt cutting off the detective without thinking about it and at the same time glancing over his shoulder to make sure that Sam had not managed to wake up and was now within earshot of this conversation.

"_Okay, I'll get right to the point then, I received the reports back from our lab this morning, the fire it appears was not accidental as we had first anticipated, I'm afraid Mr. Singer that we are looking at an arson…."_

"What?" Dean swallowed down the vomit that had managed to work its way into his throat after hearing that simple statement.

"_What I'm saying is that the explosion was deliberately set Dean, someone did this… There is strong evidence including grenade fragments that were discovered when shifting through the rubble. I know that it's taken us longer than expected to get back to you on this, our crime labs were backed up and well…"_

Dean knew that the voice on the other end of the line was still speaking, yet he didn't hear a single word of what was being said… His mind was to busy racing with questions, anger and disgust.

Someone had done this.

Someone had shattered his brother's life…

And someone was going to pay.

His mind forced him back to a memory that still remained as fresh as the events of yesterday inside of him, and he felt the world beginning to spin, the walls closing in around him.

**Three months Earlier: September 12th 2008:**

_Even in September when most places were beginning to cool down Houston Texas was a miserable exception, which was one of the reasons why the Winchester brother's had never been happier to leave a town in their rearview mirror. _

_The sweltering heat and unusually difficult, damn near eccentric vengeful spirit had made this one job they were more than ready and willing to forget._

_Tossing Sam the keys to his 1967 Chevy Impala Dean grumbled in protest about public laws and being forced to wear a shirt in public even when the fires of hell themselves seemed to be smoldering the air outside. "Go get the AC on and roll down the damn windows I'll be there in a second." He quipped, "this place is hotter than hell fire and believe me I should know!" His ending statement earned him a typical eye roll from his little brother._

"_Hunter or not your still such a girl." Sam chuckled with a shake of his head before heading out to the car able to feel Dean's glare of disapproval against his back as he did so._

_Finally deciding on a thin Hanes white t-shirt Dean threw it on and stuffed the rest of his belongings into his duffel bag taking his time and enjoying the cool comforts of the hotel room air conditioning, dreading the heat that waited for him outside._

_The events that happened next, just as he'd stuffed the last pair of unused boxers in his bag and was zipping it up, were just like those seen in an action film._

_A loud wall shaking boom filled his ears as he fell to the ground and covered them a horrified expression covering his features as he looked up to see that the force of what he'd obviously recognized to be an explosion had knocked the small picture window completely inward shattering it into a thousand pieces on the beige carpet of the hotel room, the last of the cheesy hideous western knick knacks placed on a stationary shelf in the kitchenette plummeting to join its friend in pieces of broken ceramic on the orange tiling. The walls vibrating in an aftershock manner as he made his way to his feet once more swallowing hard ._

_In an instant maybe less, Dean's heart began to race inside his chest his entire body trembling, aching with a fear he'd never known before as he ran as fast as his legs would carry him out the door of the hotel and into the parking lot._

_Time stopped._

_His breath caught in his throat literally choking him._

_his tremble progressing into a shake that rattled his bones. _

_There before him was a sight that would remain engraved inside his eyelids for the rest of his days._

_Thick rich flames engulfed his car, the last remaining piece of his deceased father that he'd had left. _

_An array of glass shards and metal pieces decorating the surrounding area of what could only be described as an over sized bon fire._

_That didn't bother him._

_His eyes scanned mercilessly through the wreckage in front of him as he made his way closer fearing what he was about to find, the overwhelming smell of smoke and fire devouring his senses and clouding his vision._

_He didn't care. _

"_Sammy?" His voice was a stranger to his own ears as he called out for any sign of his baby brother._

_No answer._

_That's when he saw it, _

_On the far side of the car an inch or two from the driver's door,… was a shoe…. _

_A dark brown boot much like his own. _

_A dark brown boot that was still connected to the tall and lengthy… motionless leg of his brother._

_"SAMMY?!? Oh god… oh god no… SAMMY" he choked back against tears and smoke making his way deeper into the destruction and debris that lay scattered about _

_Bathed by smoke and reflection of flames lay his baby brother still and lifeless blood and burns covering his lax face. Fighting elements Dean could somehow see it clear as day as he dropped down to his knees and a sob escaped his lips._

"_Sammy? SAM! Come on!" he begged and demanded all in the same breath._

_The voices of gathering strangers were a distant murmur against his raging emotions as He felt a hand on his shoulder._

"_We've got to move him." He heard a nameless faceless voice speaking into his ear, "It could blow again."_

_Dean nodded numbly and swallowed._

_With the help of a man whose name he'd never know the two of them moved Sam away from the flaming wreckage and into the center of the asphalt. The blaring sun brought to light just how bad his injuries were and the eldest of the remaining Winchester's felt his insides grow heavy with an anguish he'd never known before as panic over took him._

_As gently as he could he lifted the lifeless body of his brother against his own cradling him to his chest as more and more tears flew from his eyes blurring his vision. _

_"Sammy…. No, don't…. don't you leave me damn-it. DON'T YOU LEAVE ME !" He pleaded. A new voice filled his ears as he felt his brother's body being forced from his grasp. _

"_Let me check him…" The stranger's words were gentle, soft, those of a female._

"_He's breathing." He heard her whisper seconds later causing his eyes to shift to his brother's chest only mild relief coming to him when he saw for himself that his brother's chest was rising and falling._

"_We're gonna get you some help… Just hang in there… Hang in there Sammy…. Don't let go little brother…" He wept uncontrollably as he took hold of Sammy's listless hand and held it tightly in his own lowering his head into the shaggy brown smoke scented hair of the man sprawled out before him and kissed the top of his head, "You hold on and that's an order_

_His body numb he heard the vague sound of sirens approaching and closed his eyes unable to watch as the paramedics came rushing toward the two of them and immediately began to work…._

_Everything was a blur a timeless blur._

_His world spinning he waited in the waiting room…_

_His stomach sick he heaved into the trashcan beside the nurses desk._

_Three weeks he waited, three weeks he prayed to whoever was listening, whoever Sam had always believed in, to whoever was watching over him, to whoever would save his little brother._

_For three weeks he cried._

_He took little notice when Bobby came to his side, little notice when he was forced to eat, little notice when he was spoken to, little notice to everyone and anyone who was not his baby brother._

_It was the second day into the fourth week that his prayers were answered, September 28th__ 2008 what the first day of a whole new kind of nightmare._

_The speech of the doctor declaring his brothers condition a dull and aching pain inside his soul a bunch of words pressed together into a knife that would forever tear apart the world that their family had forever known, ripping it into shreds so small that Dean was unsure if he would be able to pick them up on his own_

"_The glass from the windshield penetrated your brother's corneas severing the optic nerve and slicing down into the retina of both eyes… _

_I'm sorry to tell you this Mr. Singer, but Samuel has suffered 100% visual impairment in both the left and right eyes with no chance of reconstruction. The damage was to extensive, the best course of action to limit the pain and discomfort that he will experience was to remove most of the internal nerves that were damaged, if we had left them in tact the pain my have never subsided and with no chance for reconstruction…."_

_An accident… The heat had caused the explosion… The Houston PD had determined, and it was only after Bobby's weight pulling that they'd decided to look further into the case… _

The reality of the matter slamming down into him like a blow to the collar bone Dean found his body sliding from the comfort of the kitchen chair to the cold tiles of the floor his face paled and stiff with realization as he struggled once again with the recurring memory of that day not long enough ago, the emotions still so close to the surface they ran through him like an open river.

A river that caused tears to begin streaming soundlessly from his eyes….

Bobby pushed open the front door to the house being led inside by Rumsfeld the second who was happily prancing thankful for his morning walk as usual.

Making his way into the kitchen the grey bearded hunter stopped in his tracks when he found the eldest of his recent houseguests crumpled in a motionless heap on the floor the phone still pressed to his ear even though it was easy to tell by the looks of him he'd checked out of whatever conversation he'd been having quite a while ago.

"Dean?!?" He questioned cautiously bending down in front of him and placing a hand on his knee.

"_Mr. Singer? Mr. Singer are you there…" _

Bobby heard the now elevated voice of the detective on the other end of the phone and reached for it prying it easily from the still unmoving man's fingers.

"Hello?"

"_Hello? Who is this?"_

"Robert, Robert Singer." Bobby lied using the name he'd heard the man practically screaming moments before, "I'm Dean's uncle, now who is this…."

"_Hello Mr. Singer, this is Detective Brady with the Houston PD… Is Dean alright… I was talking to him and then the line went dead… I could hear him breathing but, not much else is everything alright.."_

"I'm not sure just yet"

"…_I was telling him about the investigation, your nephews first instinct's were correct this was in fact not an accident but arson as he'd feared"_

"Arson?"

"_Yes sir, after further investigation we now believe there to have been foul play involved."_

"He's going to have to call you back." Bobby concluded and without another word hung the mouth piece back on to the receiver before turning his attention back to Dean.

"Dean, come on kid…" He instructed pulling the younger taller man to a standing positions with a heavy heave.

It wasn't until Dean was to his feet that he registered once again reality from nightmare and blinked himself back into the real world. "Bobby?"

"The one and only. Are you alright?"

"I-I… the detective had called and I just… I don't know what came over me."

"Take a deep breath. It's called emotion and it happens to the best of us… Even you"

"He was telling me about the investigation, and I just-"

"Freaked?"

"For lack of a better word I guess so yeah."

"Alright, well I told him you'd call him back, but if you need me to do it then you know I'll handle it."

" Bobby, someone caused that fire, someone caused that explosion, someone did this to Sammy… To us."

"I know."

"I won't rest until whoever did this is dead and buried, you hear me? No matter what it takes…"

There was finality in Dean's words that caused a chill to run down Bobby's spine, a vengeance in his tone that was heart stopping aand all he could do was nod in compliance.

"Someone. Will. Pay."

-

Feeling what he knew to be Rumsfeld jump up onto his bed Sam grunted in annoyance the world of dreams and distant memories fading into reality before he could stop them.

Popping his neck from side to side he yawned on instinct reaching for his sunglasses that rest on the side table next to his bed and sliding them on. "Good morning to you too, pain in my ass." He grumbled only half jokingly as he ran his fingers along the over sized rott's back and up her head to her ears giving them both a scratching.

She'd become his Seeing Eye dog of sorts whether he wanted her there or not she was beside him or below him accompanying him wherever he went. An unspoken bond had developed between the two of them that was evident even to the dog's rightful owner.

Sitting up a little Sam leaned against the head board and listened just as he did every morning to the activities taking place in the front room, using the commotion or lack there of as a sort of clock.

He could hear two voices and immediately recognized them as those of his brother and his 'uncle.' Which meant it wasn't in fact some god awful hour of the night and he was allowed to venture from the confines of his bedroom and half heartedly join the land of the living.

Bringing himself to a full standing position he felt for his shirt before sliding it over his head and covering his previously bare torso. "And we're off…" He mumbled slapping his thigh for the dog to follow… As if she weren't already.

It wasn't until he'd almost reached the hallway that the beep of his own cell phone distracted him and caused him to turn back.

He didn't know why he'd turned back, no matter who it was that had left him a message he knew he wouldn't call them back… It was just easier that way. but still that beep would grow increasingly annoying so it was better to answer it he supposed.

Punching in his access code he listened.

"_Hey Sam, its Becky… AGAIN. Zach and I are really beginning to worry about you, you haven't returned any of our calls or answered any of our emails and we know what you're out there doing… _

_Please call us back and let us know you're alright… We miss you."_

With a heavy sigh Sam's fingers found the delete button and he closed his phone once again. He gave momentary thought to calling her back, but dismissed it in the same second.

It was easier this way, to just shut everyone out, at least that was what he told himself. He was less than half a man, and no one should have to look upon him ever again.

-

Hearing his brother approaching from the down the hall Dean drew in a deep breath and released it trying to steady himself and his nerves as he rose to his feet and made his way to the coffee pot to refill his cup and make one for Sam as well. Trying desperately to appear as casual as every other day.

Bobby stood as well at this point pulling Sam's chair out for him ever so slightly and giving Dean a once over with worried eyes, "Don't you think you should tell him? He's got a right to know"

"Not yet."

Against his own better judgment the older man accepted this and headed off toward Sam to assist him through the maze that was the living room and into the kitchen. "Well good morning sunshine." He greeted sliding his hand on to the blind man's arm carefully. "I see your faithful sidekick has resumed her duties as your watcher."

"So it would seem." Sam tried as best he could to smile even though all he could manage was a half cocked painful grin on instinct reaching over with his free hand and gripping Bobby's arm when his feet fumbled over one of the before mentioned dog's toys, his contorting into suprise.

"I gottcha. " Bobby coaxed a little glaring at the rott who retrieved her toy with her head hung low and made her way to the sofa just as a child would when being put into time out.

"Damn-it." Sam hissed trying to shake it off as best he could but still unable to stop the knot of anger and embarrassment that built up inside him every time something like this happened.

"Don't worry about it, these things happen, although I swear one day I'm gonna send that dog packing if she doesn't start learning how to clean up after herself."

"She's a dog Bobby…"

"Yeah well still…"

Seeing his brother appear in the kitchen Dean gripped the two cups of coffee tighter and made his way to where Sam was now sitting. "Coffee." He half offered and half informed before pressing the mug into his brother's hand.

"Thanks…" Sam's voice trailed off as his finger's just so happened to over lap his brother's just the tiniest bit and he could feel the shake of Dean's flesh. "Dean." His voice dropped to a low and questioning whisper as he slid them a little further up to encompass more of the trembling man's arm, his head bowing in concentration. "Dean are you alright?"

"Yeah." The older of the two brother's nodded out of habit clearing his throat. "Yeah… Fine Sammy…" he pulled his hand back instinctively causing the hot coffee to slosh in it's mug but not spill over.

Sam's head tilted upward and Dean swore that from beneath his dark glasses he was looking right into, right through him, even though he knew it was impossible. "Don't lie to me. I might be blind man, but I can still see right through you."

Exhaling again Dean shook his head trying to shake off the eeriness of Sam's statement and at the same time trying to weasel his way out of the corner he'd been backed into. "I'm just tired… I didn't sleep much last night… Now drink your coffee…"

Sam bit back a knowing and irritated sigh, the worst part of his new life was how easily he could be lied to… How foolish Dean thought he was, and how even when he knew something was wrong he really had no way of protesting his brother's "I'm fine, everything's fine" retort system.

He found himself feeling as though he were less than a child in the eyes of those who now seemed to care for him more than they cared about him these days.


	3. Part Two revised 3910

Title: **Through The Darkness**Category: TV Shows » SupernaturalAuthor: Lady Rosebud : : English, Rating: Rated: TGenre: Angst/General

**Chapter Two**

It had been over a week since the coffee cup incident and during that week Sam noticed more than ever that his brother had become withdrawn and quiet around him, he knew that there was something going on but couldn't quite put his finger on what it was.

Hearing his alarm sound noisily in his ear he grunted and rolled over slamming his palm down heavily to stop the shrill beep, grunting and popping his neck as he did so. His limbs stiff and body sore, his lack of physical exercise seemed to be catching up with him more and more each day.

He didn't want to get up though, his eyes opening slowly he was met yet again with a dark curtain shielding his view of the world around him and snorted angrily, it was going to be another mindless day, a day just like all the others before it... A day he wished had never begun and would not to soon end.

Little did he know that today was going to be a day that would change his life forever. Today would be the day he would find out the secret his brother had been hiding from him and because of it he would never be The same again.

Feeling Rumsfeld bound up onto the bed Sam gave a weak smiled and signaled for him to move closer. It was amazing how his remaining senses had over compensated for his loss of sight in the months after his accident. As he scratched behind the dogs ears, flashes that he could only think to describe as a broken movie flickered in and out of his mind.

He could see Rumsfeld's bright blue eyes staring at him filled with pleasure, his brown and tan fur shedding all over the bedspread as his new winter coat was just beginning to come in. Even the steady stream of drool that always seemed to accompany his large K-9 grin. They were the sights he'd seen months ago, memories…. But they were all he had to cling on to.

Sam's sense of touch had become his eyes, his fingertips were as sensitive to his surroundings as his now empty orbs had once been to the sun, he could run his fingers along most everything inside his room and knew within moments what he was grasping….

But there were still things that he could not see, things that a touch could not recollect for him, because they were untouchable... images his memory was slowly stealing from him and deep down inside he knew he would someday forget, haze had already begun to descend on so many of his memories like fading photographs there was little he could do to call them back to him and each time he was able to there was less and less detail then the time before.

Pictures and family albums, the only relationship he had truly ever had with his mother, were useless to him now, just smooth pieces of nothingness between his fingers each one feeling identical to the next, sometimes he would sit and run his fingers along the same one for hours as sadness turned to frustration and quickly to anger. He fought to remember the images placed upon them, to remember Jessica, his Jessica and the life they'd once shared together… And even more so his mother, a woman who if it weren't for these now blank photos he would have known at all...

This was by far the hardest thing for him to come to terms with about his new and taunting disability, he was forgetting her, little details of how beautiful she was, the times she'd held him as a child, the happiness in her eyes…

Memories he'd never really had but that were told to him through a few small and torn pieces of paper that showed him who he'd come from and the small yet so important time they'd spent together…

What scared him most was the feeling that someday she would slip from him completely.

He'd thought about asking his brother to remind him of the small things, all the things he thought he was forgetting, but he pushed the thought from his mind as quickly as it had appeared, Dean would think it stupid and childish if Sam asked him to do something so silly...

If only he could have his eyes back for one more day, if he could see the world around him and somehow find a way to lock the images of his loved ones up so that they would never disappear from inside of him...

If only...

……

Dean stood out in front of the old yard gripping so tightly to a cup of fresh steaming coffee that his knuckles were white. He watched as the sun had finally made it's way fully into the sky and sighed deeply, on any other morning he would have pissed and moaned about waking up at just short of five a.m. and standing out in the freezing cold for over two hours. Today however, today wasn't just any other morning.

Bobby came up beside him holding his own cup of coffee and taking a long sip before speaking, "It won't be but a minute now, are you sure this is what you want it's not to late..."

"Bobby." Dean turned to look at the man beside him, "You and I both know I won't trust anyone else to do this... it's something I have to do...Just-"

"I know. I know." Bobby cut him short shaking his head, "Don't tell Sam."

"I just think it's better for right now if he doesn't know."

"He's not an idget you know?"

Dean opened his mouth to answer as the low rumble of an approaching truck stole his attention and he glanced back to the road to see a white truck rounding the corner.

He tried to prepare himself for what his eyes were about to take in, tried to ground himself and think of happy thoughts.

His efforts however were in vein.

As the tail end of the truck caught up with its front, there on top of the tow bed lay the charcoal and unrecognizable remains of his best girl.

His breath hitched in his throat and he groaned involuntarily as the emotionally distressing sight pulled in closer and closer to him giving him an up close and personal view of the devastation.

His stomach became instantly nauseous, his head swimming as he took an unsteady step trying to find his footing...

To most people their car was... just a car, to Dean Winchester, she was much more than that, she was a gift from his father, full of both welcome an unwelcome memories, she was a part of him...

a huge part of him...

And here before his eyes, sprawled out in countless blackened pieces, lay what remained of her. Ironically Dean found himself thinking that what was left of his car oddly resembled what was left of the lives of the Winchesters.

A short, round balding man whose pants hug far to low hobbled down the four feet gap between his trucks edge and the ground before straightening up again. A sight that under any other circumstances would have left Dean entertained for at least a week. "You Singer?" He drawled in a toothless southern accent, holding a beat up metal clip board with some grease spotted papers in Bobby's direction as he approached.

Dean felt as though he would be hitting his knees at any minute now as he shoved his hands in his pockets trying to keep them from shaking...

His car.

"Yup." Bobby concurred taking the papers and sprawling a sloppy signature onto them before handing them back.

"I don't know why you'd want this thing... Shoulda sent er' out with the scrap medal… none of my business though I s'pose..."

"You'd s'pose right." Dean growled purposely taking a stab at the hick of a man's improper English, feeling his blood boil. Even in her current condition no one had the right to insult such a beautiful piece of machinery.

"Anyway..." The balding man glanced sideways at Dean before looking back to Bobby, "where do you want me to drop it?"

A few moments later Dean's feelings of nausea worsened as he watched his 1967 Chevy Impala being tossed off of the big honking nasty tow truck on to the far side of the yard. His stomach dropping in unison with it. A loud crunch accompanying her fall. Her frame shook and her back fender fell with a resounding thud on to the dirt.

He couldn't watch anymore as he barely made it to the front steps before collapsing on to them and putting his head between his knees. "My- My car." He whispered almost breathlessly hearing feet he knew to be Bobby's approaching without even bothering to look up.

"It's uh, not as bad as it looks?" The grey bearded man tried his best to sound optimistic.

At the very moment he spoke however it was as though the car herself was proving him wrong, the passengers' side door which had been hanging on by a thread came crashing down with a thunk and a clatter causing both men to shudder.

"Yeah..." Dean's voice died off as he heard the shuffle of feet coming his way and turned just in time to see Sam appear in the door way wearing no more than his plaid boxer short a quizzical expression crossing his face,

"What was that?" He asked leaning against the doorframe.

"Dean and I were just standing out here when a car took the corner to fast and a hub cap came flying off the back." Bobby lied convincingly all the while giving Dean a disapprovingly glare, he hated Deans choice to keep Sam in the dark.

"Oh..Okay.." Sam sniffed the air a little his face contorting slightly as he swore the lightest sent of fire and smoke found it's way into his senses. "Is that-" He let the words fall from his lips dismissing it as no more than another vivid memory of his horrific accident and casting his head downward.

Every now and then little things; smells, images, sounds, memories, would find there way into his senses and the youngest Winchester would have to fight them off like a nagging vicious pocket dog biting at his heels..

Dean Opened the screen door, "What?"

"Nothing… Never mind"

"You uh want me to get you some coffee?" He asked trying to sound as nonchalant as possible as he placed a hand on his brother's arm.

"Your shaking." Sam tilted his head back up a little a frown pressing on his lips.

"It's winter, cold as hell outside... of course I am." Dean snapped before as gently as he could pushing Sam aside and stepping around him leaving Bobby alone with the younger man and his not so convinced expression.

"Bobby?"

"Just go get some clothes on kid, and lets have some breakfast alright?"

"Whatever" Sam grunted, now more determined than ever that there was something being hidden from him.

After a long and almost wordless breakfast a look of disapproval still etched into his features Sam stood up from the table and signaled for Rumsfeld to come to his side. "I'm going for a walk." He quipped leaving no room for argument and as quickly as he could making his way to the front door retrieving his white cane with the red tip and slamming the screen door as he went.

He'd had quite enough, the longer breakfast had continued the more he felt suffocated inside his jailing, empty blackness, by the people who supposedly loved him most. He'd hardly been able to stomach a few bite before pushing his plate away, he needed time, he needed air, he needed answers… but he knew those were not going to come his way.

Dean rose to his feet to go after him but was quickly halted by a firm grip on his arm looking down to see Bobby shaking his head from where he still sat at the head of the table. "Let him go." He ordered more than advised.

"He's going to get hurt out there."

"He's not a child Dean, you can't watch over him all the time."

"Like hell I can't."

"It's not fair to you and it's sure as hell not fair to Sam, you need to let him have a little space, independence, he needs it… His pride needs it."

"What if…." Dean looked near dumbfounded by Bobby's careless attitude

"You are not going to always be there to cover every damn pothole for the boy. He'll be okay, and if by some chance something does happen, it's not as though you boys haven't had your share of injuries"

Dean exhaled and slid back into his chair hunching over against the back of it wordlessly, he knew that Bobby was right, he knew Sam needed space, but that didn't make the voice inside of him scream any softer.

It didn't make him want any less to run after his brother and protect him, even more so now than he had always done before.

……..

Sam realized Dean was right about one thing as a resounding beep from the crosswalks red light signaled for him to stop and like a hundred little bees biting at his face the cold stung him, it was damn cold out.

Pulling his jacket tighter around himself he shushed Rumsfeld who was barking noisily as his side.

"Getting run over is not on my list of things to do today girl, hold on just a minute." He grumbled listening to the cars roll by.

Then suddenly he froze.

His blood ran cold.

His breath seized to flow from his lips… his heart forgot how to beat in his chest.

All within a matter of seconds.

A familiar and unwelcome voice filling his ears over the sound of the passing traffic. Sam found himself wishing he could disappear, he wished he could run, he wished he could do anything, but he couldn't he was helpless. His feet wouldn't move no matter how much he willed them to and he wondered if this was what a heart attack felt like.

"WINCHESTER!" A car came to a screeching halt on the curb beside him and a door opened before slamming shut again. "well well well."

Finding his legs again, Sam dropped his white cane that landed with a clack beside him as he kneeled next to the dog who was now growling and barking intensely at the approaching stranger, "Sh, it's alright." He wasn't sure if he was speaking to the dog or more to himself.

"In all my years I have not had such luck, here I am just drivin' down the street and BAM there you are like a gift from above." The dark skinned man spat now standing within inches from the hunched over figure

Adjusting his hat a little Sam cleared his throat, "I'm sorry?" He asked in his most innocent voice, "Do I know you?"

"Don't play dumb with me." the man scolded. "Where's your brother huh? You two playing some sort of game with the poor unsuspecting folks of this town?"

"My...My brother..?" Sam's head tilted up a little his lip drawn in between his teeth.

The confident and cocky man stepped backward in alarm and nearly fumbled right off of the curb inhaling sharply.

The sun seemed to hit the now crouching man's dark sunglasses just right so that behind them could be seen a pair of sightless pure white eyes set like pools of milk against his pale complexion.

This wasn't who he'd thought it was...

This wasn't Sam Winchester.

The resemblance was there sure but upon closer inspection…

Sam was strong and vibrant, evil almost...

Sam could see...

This man was sightless…trembling... drawn in and weak...

soft spoken and fragile….

"I-I'm sorry..." He stammered placing his hand on the blind man's shoulder, causing him to jump instantly, "Easy there," he helped him to his feet. "I thought you were someone else... my mistake." He whispered before reaching down and grabbing hold of the long white stick placing it back into Sam's unsure and still shaking grasp firmly. A pang of guilt pecking at his gut at his ruthless assumption.

Sam resisted the urge to breath out the sigh of relief he now felt devouring his entire body as he nodded, clearing his throat and literaly sputtering out the words "Quite alright.."

"Please... forgive me. sir" He stepped back off of the curb and got into his car revving the engine as Sam heard the man in the seat beside him begin to speak.

"Hendrickson? Are you alright? Who was that?"

"No one..." The uneasy tone of special agent Victor Hendrickson's words brought small smirk to the blind man's lips as he listened. "I thought he was someone else..."

"I use to be…" Sam found himself whispering into the open air surrounding him.

Their voices finally fading into the traffic of the street Sam found the strength to move again stepping backwards until his body was met with the stone wall of one of the near by shops and he let out his to long held in breath shakily. A down pour of sweat bathing his face and rolling down onto his shirt .

"That." He croaked out a little louder now, "Was a close one."

. . . . .


	4. Part Three revised 31210

_Almost completely rewritten for your enjoyment!!!_

Title: **Through The Darkness**Category: TV Shows » SupernaturalAuthor: Lady Rosebud : : English, Rating: Rated: TGenre: Angst/General

**Chapter Three**

_. . . _

With a sigh of more worry than irritation, Dean looked at the hour hand on the clock listening to it tick, it seemed to grow louder and louder as the seconds passed by. _Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. _If he paced the front room much longer Bobby feared he might have to replace the carpet sooner than he'd hoped.

"Sit down son." The older of the two whispered rubbing the whiskers on his chin.

"I can't. He's been gone over an hour, shouldn't he be back by now? I mean how long does it really take for him to cool off… or whatever the hell it is someone like him does?"

"He's got a lot to sort through Dean, and maybe the only way he feels he can do that is without you and me whimpering and watching over his every move constantly asking if he's alright… If he needs anything, or if there is anything we can do to make this easier on him…" The end of his statement went without saying, the truth was there was nothing easy about anything these days and everyone involved seemed to feel nothing less than helpless as time marched on. "well you know what I mean…."

"Bobby" The eldest remaining Winchester stopped in mid step shoving his hands in his pockets and looking to his mentor his eyes pleading as he asked the question Bobby himself had already been mulling over for weeks now. "How long do you really think we can go on like this?"

"I'm not to sure what you mean… go on like what?" Playing dumb was nothing more than a lame attempt to buy himself a few more seconds to come up with some believable bullshit answer, something that gave Dean the false yet refreshing hope he was begging for.

"Holding up here, hiding here… waiting for things to get back to normal…" Dean shook his head rocking back and forth on his heels as he corrected himself. "No…. not waiting for things to get back to normal… pretending that someday they actually will, fooling ourselves into believing such a ridiculous notion…" He scoffed, " like we are going to wake up one morning and all of this… Sam's eyes, the explosion… All of it was just some horrible vivid, scary dream."

"Well… Until he's ready I s'pose… Until we are all ready." It wasn't the answer either one of them was hoping for, but it was all the Bobby had found to offer up.

"Ready for what?"

"To face all of this head on." confirmation quickly shinning in his young friends disappointed expression, Bobby knew that Dean was expecting much more from him and he wished desperately that he had it to give...

Not knowing what else to do, he changed the subject to one not much better but still in need of addressing. "About that car…"

"Bobby… Please." A bitter gigantic lump found it's way into Dean's throat and he swallowed hard trying to dislodge it.

"You can't keep this from him forever… I mean aside from the fact that it is completely unfair, Sam is not an idiot he is going to figure out your hiding something from him when you spend less time hovering over him like a fickle grandmother, and more time out in the yard hidden away… He'll put two and two together on his own and the fires of hell it's self will be more pleasant than the rash of crap he is going to give you."

Dean nodded knowingly, "I just need a little time that's all."

"Time? How much Time? A day? A week, A month?" Bobby pursued the subject as he removed his sweat stained ball cap and scratched the top of his grey matted hair before putting it back on again, "The longer you wait the harder this is going to be, we both know that…"

"Yeah." Dean let that single word die off on his lips as he checked the time yet again and discovered to his own dismay that only five minutes had passed since he'd last checked…

Six now… Six minutes actually.

Every second that lurched by filled his wild and tainted imagination with more and more horrific situations that his brother could be facing while he sat here with his thumb up his ass like a moron waiting and watching the damn clock.

_Tick. Tick Tock._

Scenarios that Sam would need protecting from, that he couldn't face on his own any longer. Without his eyes he was without his greatest weapon… the weapon of awareness… he was completely vulnerable… If he couldn't see what was coming how the hell could he fight it? Stand up to it? Or even run from it?

At least that is how Dean saw it and the thought brought bile to his throat and knots the size of cannonballs into his gut.

Letting Sam wonder off alone was something that he was definitely kicking himself harder and harder for as he watched the moments creek by on the old rusty Timex that hung from the lamp on the far wall.

"C'mon Sammy." He mumbled under his breath clenching his hands still shoved in his pockets into half fists and then releasing them again.

. . .

a light layer of sweat still decorating his forehead Sam found his legs again and wordlessly made the two hundred and forty-two step trek back to Bobby's place.

It took a hundred and thirteen of those steps before his heart finally calmed in his chest.

A hundred and sixty-seven until he felt the shake in his flesh subside.

And… Almost all two hundred and forty-two until his stomach finally untwisted itself, questions and disbelief still rolling around nauseatingly inside of him.

What if Hendrickson had realized he really was the one and only Sam Winchester? Vigilante wanted in damn near forty nine of the fifty states.

The Sam Winchester, with a rap sheet longer than the novel war and peace? A rap sheet that read of everything from grave desecration, impersonating every government official known to man, theft and credit card fraud…… to conspiracy to murder, and his personal favorite accessory to murder…

Sam always wondered how a person could be an accessory to a murder? Like they were the case that held the gun, or the book that held the plans, the maker of the rope, the tier of the knot….

You either killed someone or you didn't… There was no accessorizing involved,…

He supposed it was the wording that amused him so greatly, the government viewed him as little more than his brothers lipstick or handbag.

Sam was the accessory he guess because Dean was even more of a fugitive than he was in the eyes of the loving and wonderful united states government.

There was going to be no one to bail him out if he was discovered, it's not like Bobby had a clean bill with the boys at the precinct, he Sam was sure, had broken more laws than both Winchester brothers combined.

Dean sure was going to get quite the chuckle out of this adventure, that was a guarantee.

Sam's lips fell into a frown as another thought crossed his mind… He was glad that Hendrickson hadn't recognized him there was no question about that, but why hadn't he?

Had loosing his eye sight really made Sam that unrecognizable compared to who he use to be? Had he really let himself go that much?

So much so that he'd become a stranger to eyes that even if not in the best way had studied every inch of him and were supposed to be able to recognize him no matter what the disguise?

He was forced to push the thoughts from his mind as he almost lost count of his steps and nearly missed his turn into the small junkyard with the very distinctive smell. A smell that was so strong that both he and Rumsfield had begun to pick it up over a block ago.

"Maybe it's not demon blood in me at all." He'd joked trying to lighten his own mood. "Maybe they have been wrong all this time and it is actually canine tainted blood that runs through my veins." he snickered. "And we're-" His words cut themselves off as his brows drew together in confusion, "What the hell?"

Once he'd stepped over the threshold and into the mass collection of car parts and garbage-esque debris, the smell he'd picked up a block or so ago was shadowed yet again by that of smoke and fire.

This he was sure was much more than coincidence.

It couldn't be that Bobby had simply neglected to mention the arrival of a new car, someone's left over's from a previously owned vehicle…

His "uncle's" shop was deader than an uprooted Christmas tree by July and his business these days was used as little more than a disguise to hide a truly frightening side of the world that if the general public knew existed would surely bring pandemonium to the masses and chaos to the entire planet.

Raising his hand out in front himself a little he let his nose guide him toward the familiar scent each step a little less steady than the one before it as he used his foot to scan for small part and objects that would easily trip him.

As he walked slow and steady he began to think about the past few days, how quiet his roommates had been, the silence that had spread like weeds through their small living quarters.

With Bobby's silence came reason, and the only reason for silence over something as silly as a piece of scrap metal in a junkyard was…..

Her….

Moving in closer and closer the stench of smoke and fire became almost unbearable…. Unimaginable…..

Sam swallowed hard….

Silently, as his twenty-third step was completed, his fingers exited the emptiness of the late morning air and came in contact with something hard.

Cold.

Smooth.

Soiled as on contact the tips of his finger felt dusty… Ashy,

Instantly they began to tremble as they danced across the large and not to foreign object as knowingly as if his eyes had rested upon her themselves, his fingers knew every inch of her body, taking in every mark, every crevice, each and every piece.

He'd envied her as a child.

Mocked her as a teen.

And now despised her as a man.

Painful tears filled sightless eyes and spilled over their edges in a reaction Sam himself did not expect, as his heart forgot how to beat for the second time that day.

He tilted his head back and held his jaw together trying to will them away, stop them from spilling….

He wanted to pull his hands away…

But still they roamed.

He wanted to back away.

But instead he moved closer…

Swallowing hard he bit back a heart-wrenching sob as he reached the door handle and stroked it heavily. He'd opened it so many times in his life, it was in many ways the gateway to his past, to his fondest of memories, and even those that were not so fond….

He gagged involuntarily.

Almost everywhere he'd ever gone he'd gone safely encaged inside of her. She'd carried him around the world and back again and she'd done it more than once. She was as much a part of him as she was of Dean, but it was only now that Sam had truly realized it.

Like the cracking of a wooden log leading way to a damn, all the pieces fell at once…

The slight tremble of his fingers quickly turned into shaking hands his knees threatening to give way as he grasped tightly to her handle and tried as best he could to steady himself and his emotions.

So many thoughts… memories…. flooding his senses that the pressure of them could of knocked Sam right off his feet if he weren't holding so tightly to her cold metal.

Child to adult his life flashed inside his head filling the blackness that he'd become accustomed to in an instant,

_his father teaching Dean to drive, Sam tucked into his seatbelt, petrified in the back seat._

_Dean teaching Sam a few short years later, John pasted against the back seat gripping tightly to the doorframe this time, his words ringing out. "I've seen many scary things in my life boy, but you drive worse than Dean… God help us all"_

_Battle wounds tended to as Sam's head lay pressed up against her cool leather._

_Night after night spent curled up in the passengers seat._

_Microwavable meals shared on holidays from safely inside of her._

She was like a photo album, a home movie, a family member…

She was a piece of him.

The smell of smoke in his nose was now full on stomach churning in strength as he fought to keep the vomit in his throat at bay.

"Damnit." He hissed after a moment as he felt a headache beginning to build behind his eyes that he was sure was being brought on by the sudden burst of emotions he was allowing himself to feel.

Unable to shut off like he had done so many others these days.

He was falling apart, falling to fucking pieces all because of a stupid car?

She'd led him through his life sure, but she'd destroyed it just the same, inadvertently or not.

What the hell was the matter with him?

His voice was breathless and weak as he cursed drawing in a shaky, uneasy breath and letting it out. "Pull it together."

Dean couldn't see him like this, his silent tears trying desperately to fall faster down his now reddened cheeks as he fought against them. His face drenched with sweat that mixed openly with the tears, his throat and mouth drier than a desert.

Seconds felt like hours as they passed and the minor pain from behind his eyes intensified and gave way to a full on mind numbing explosive ache.

It was only then that Sam realized exactly what kind of gut wrenching ache it was exactly.

An ache he knew all to well, and hated desperately.

The pain caused the already weak man's body to cripple and double over as he brought his free hand to his temple and rubbed fiercely.

What the hell…

He heard what could only be described as a yelp escape his lips as he felt his body hit something cold and hard with a sickening thud…

All at once, lightning flashed before his blinded eyes and he found himself no longer surrounded by dilapidated cars in the safety of Bobby's salvage yard.

_No longer in the dark. As though the vale had been lifted from over his vision, his world filled with vibrant, bright…… dangerous colors._

_The sudden on set of them caused Sam's stomach to tighten, his pulse quickened and he knew he would have vomited if he weren't so petrified._

_It was real. It was all so real and so familiar. Sweat would have poured down his forehead if it weren't so hot that even perspiring was impossible. _

_Flames taunted him from every direction, drawing in closer and closer. Nipping and licking at his body he could feel small bee like stings as the hair was singed from his arms, neck and face._

_He could taste the bitter familiar flavor of death on his tongue and yet even in the unbearable heat he was frozen and cold with fear, he was like a statue placed among the ruble as it crackled and burned all around him._

_Closed in on him._

_He couldn't breathe._

_His eyes barely able to see beyond the smoke and flames, deep waves of red and orange bathed him, blanketing his body from top to bottom._

_He was trapped._

_Helpless._

_He wanted nothing more than to run, to scoot, to slither away, but his limbs remained still, paralyzed by fire and fear… _

_So he watched, watched and prayed…_

_Counted his breaths as he listened to them come faster and faster from his lips_

'_god' he pleaded inside his mind with the being who he believed to be watching over him. 'Take me…. Take me….. Make it stop…please…Take me' _

_The song a fire sings is not as soft as one would believe when they are standing on the outside._

_From the inside, surrounded by it's nearly deafening voice, loud and deadly it sang and Sam fought to hear anything, anything at all aside from its snapping and hissing melody that rang through his ears and rattled his brain._

_It was only then, when he concentrated hard enough to make his head and his ears ache, it was only then that he found peace among the destruction…._

_Dean's voice off in the distance called to him._

_It might've be Dean's voice…. It had to have been…_

_Still though he couldn't let himself believe, couldn't quite be sure._

_It burned. _

_The heat so hot blisters formed and popped in various locations along his flesh_

_No matter how hard he fought, he couldn't breathe. Opening his mouth and searching for air he was only reprimanded, smoke and flame smacked his lips like the hand of an angered mother._

_Helpless._

_Like a thousand needles the flames pricked his skin._

_He could smell it burning._

_He could smell it burning…_

_._

_Not it… Him_

_He is what was burning.._

_Once he was sure it was to late, the flames now spinning like a bad acid trip in front of his eyes, he found his limbs again…. _

_But it was no use, life was already slipping from him…._

_He tried to get out, tried to bring his hands to his face, tried to protect himself, but his strength failed him his fingers only twitched, his arm to heavy to lift._

_His eyes shift from left to right, up to down… searching for something, anything… even as blackness threatened to over take \him, forcing him closer and closer to unconsciousness._

_Silently, wordlessly, death finally found his lips and kissed them tenderly like a lost lover, he thanked the heavens for bringing his suffering to an end._

_Through the flames deaths cool wind whistled, Sam could feel it against the burns on his cheek and shifted his face toward the welcoming sensation._

_His lashes fluttered but never fully closed…_

_Even though he is grateful for an end his body did not want to surrender and he found his eyes fighting to find focus as a loud earth shattering bloom echoed all around him, quaking the ground where his body lay._

_It was only then, Sam could see him clear as day…_

_Beyond the flames fading into the blur of the smoke, _

_a figure…. _

_a shadow… _

_Instead of coming towards the fire, instead of coming to help…_

_He was headed the wrong way. _

_His form grew smaller rather than larger with each step._

_Hope had evaded him and Sam was left to die, Dean's voice still to far to pull him free from deaths grasp. _

_With a gasp He fought to close his eyes seeing what was coming, but it did no good, the slow motion he'd been watching the world in gave way to a pace that almost seemed double time…._

_Piercing pain shattered every inch of his being. _

_He could hear the slivers of glass as they ripped into his face, feel them as they stung and stabbed him sending sickeningly painful impulses to his brain as he tried to shake them free. _

_His face became slick and wet with his own blood, the smell of copper over powering that of the fire whose painful flames paled in comparison to the agony he'd found himself experiencing._

_His soul flopped inside his now lifeless limbs like a fish out of water, fighting to get free, fighting to be relieved of this pain…_

"_NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" He'd finally found his voice again, he could hear it tremble with fear as he choked violently on the smoke seasoned blood that filled his mouth and devouring his insides._

_Somebody,… Somebody please save me. He heard himself scream even though his lips were lax, lifeless, motionless, he could feel himself in a tug of war between the sweet agony of life and the painful finality of death. _

_Just as Dean's voice returned to his ears, as his brother finally reached him….. Sam's battle was lost… _

_he could hold on no longer…._

….

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Dean jumped to his feet from where he'd finally sat waiting not so patiently on the sofa and sprang through the screen door Bobby quick on his heels the sound of Sam's desperate and broken cry streaming into the living room from the front yard.

It only takes his gaze a second before he spots his brother's dilapidated and trembling form curled on the dirt next to what remained of his classic car. "Damn-it" he breathed out jumping down off of the small porch and racing to Sam's side.

His voice calm, grip strong, even if on the inside he too is trembling like a frightened child, he placed his hand on is brother's forearm squeezing it assertively "Sammy?"

No answer.

Sam's face is forward, his cheek pressed hard into the dirt, as though he is staring looking at, no looking through something.

His left arm still raised, his grip on the door handle has increased so much that his knuckles are pure white.

His face is like stone, petrified, his jaw locked, lips thin, nostrils flared… and even underneath his dark glasses Dean could see his eyes were wide and still, unblinking.

The only movement at all was the trembling of the flesh in which his features were carved.

"SAM!" He made sure his voice was louder and carried more of a demanding tone this time as he pried Sam's fingers one by one off of the impalas handle. "Sam. Come on dude…"

With a deep inhale of breath and then a cough, Sam came to as though he were being woken up from an awkward slumber. He jumped slightly and wrapped his fingers instinctively around his brother's hand which he found to be holding his own.

"Dean" He voice was strained and soft as he ran his tongue over his lips, and found that the taste of smoke and ash still rested there.

"I'm right here Sammy, Bobby and I both are, are you alright?" Dean questioned.

At that same moment, Sam smelled Bobby's familiar scent of old socks and cheap after shave lingering over top of him. He knew how crazy he was going to sound but, they'd experienced weirder and at that moment couldn't have cared less. "I-I…Saw something…" he mumbled his tone soft.

"You what?" … "Saw something how?" Both Dean and Bobby asked in unison as each one of them took one of Sam's arms and pulled him carefully to his feet.

"I saw…" He paused trying to fit the images together inside his mind for himself before being able to find the words to explain them…. "A vision?" He asked more than answered shaking his head,

Bobby and Dean exchanged worried glances as Dean placed a firm and steady hand on Sam's shoulder blade, "A vision? Sam what did you see? Was someone in trouble? "

"I thought he didn't have those anymore." Bobby questioned sounding genuinely confused.

"It was so real … I could feel it on my skin" He shivered at the memory and inhaled sharply, "I could see it, I could taste it…. I can still…"

"Talk to me Sam, what did you see?" Dean prodded gently

"Everything…"

"What is everything?"

"The flames were pressed against my flesh like a blanket, the broken glass came so fast…. I-I"

"Whoa" Dean grunted a little as his brother's balance wavered and he was forced to grip the shoulder beneath his palm hard to keep Sam on his feet. "Easy Sammy, deep breath."

"The heat… All of it, I was awake, so awake…I could see… I could feel everything…I could hear you…"

Dean exhaled apologetically and shared a concerned look with their 'uncle'.

"Sam…" Bobby's voice was coaxing and gentle, "you were unconscious kiddo, you spent three weeks after the… after the explosion in a coma. You can't have memories of something you've never seen…"

"it was a nightmares Sammy." Dean's tone, Sam felt was almost tauntingly apathetic as he spoke, "Nothing more than a realistic nightmare."

"No Dean, it felt real"

"Of course it did…"

"No Real, Real… like Lawrence… like Stanford…"

"Sam. Those were vision you had before they occurred…."

\"I'm not crazy"

"Of course not, you've been though something that-"

"don't you patronize me!" He quipped, " I don't know how, but it was real… As real as you and I standing here right now! It was as though I'd left my body, as though I were someone else watching everything as it happened, but I was still me…. I could still feel it, I could still see it…. And it wasn't a dream, it was real"

His brother studied the obviously shaken young man with worried and intense eyes looking over every inch of him with the watchful gaze only an older sibling could master so perfectly. "That's impossible Sam…" he whispered.

"Many people would say that exact same thing about Vampires…" Sam shot back his lip snarling slightly as he lowered his head a little.

Dean drew in a breath and frowned watching as two small streams of blood began to work their way down Sam's cheeks from underneath his glasses. "Christ Sammy, you're bleeding…." He informed quickly, how the hell had he managed to miss that one before?

Grabbing the nape of his little brother's neck he tilted his head back carefully.

"What?" Sam brought his had up to examined the liquid sliding down his face that he'd previously believed to be no more than left over tears or maybe sweat.

"Here." Bobby ripped the bottom off of his flannel and nudged Sam's hand away, before slipping the bleeding man's glasses off and holding the scrap beneath his eyes. "Don't touch em'…."

There was nothing wrong that could be seen, no new cuts, burns or opened wounds…. No source for the blood to be coming from… Just milky white orbs that housed only the slightest hint of pale hazel irises which remained unfocused and small…

Eyes that were once so alive, now lifeless and dead as rivers of crimson continued to spill unexplainably from them.

"_What the hell??" _Dean mouthed more to himself than bobby as he tried to wipe away the rich thick liquid.

"Where is it coming from?" Sam asked now more confused than ever drawing his lip into his mouth and swallowing hard.

"Your eyes, do they hurt? Did you cut them when you fell?"

"No….. I mean, there's no pain, I don't think I did."

"I don't see any cuts…" Dean accidentally admitted examining them closely.

It had only been a minute maybe two, when Bobby and Dean watched in shocked amazement…. as quickly as the bleeding had begun without warning, it seized.

All that remained were the red smudged across Sam's cheeks as the two oldest figures found themselves stunned silent… a very uncomfortable situation for Sam, "Uh guys?…What's going on?"

"What the hell?" Bobby couldn't hide his confusion, "In all my years I never…."

"What?!?!" Sam questioned growing impatient.

"They've stopped." Dean's voice was small and uncertain as he used the pad of his thumb and gently inspected the still slightly tender area around Sam's eyes. Nothing. "Are you sure they don't hurt?"

"They're fine."

"Let's just get you back inside…" Bobby suggested not having much else to offer at the moment as he led the way his head already filling and spilling over with questions and possibilities, phrases that he knew he would spend all day and night researching.

Sam took only a single step forward before halting, Dean faithfully pasted at his side, "Dean."

"Yeah?"

"Someone was there"

"huh?"

"That day…" Sam's throat clenched and he shook his head, "I saw someone,… someone was there that day."

"A lot of people were there, they were trying to help you."

Sam cleared his throat loudly, why wouldn't his brother believe him, was it really that impossible? At one point he'd been able to see the future, why was it so far fetched that he could see the past?? "No.. " His teeth clanked together and he spoke through them, "No, not this guy… not the guy I saw.. he was walking away,… getting smaller… It doesn't make any sense "

Dean froze and even though Sam could not see him he studied his brother's face once again. "Oh."

"That's all you can say is oh? I tell you I think I've had some sort of vision and you respond to me with an oh? An uncertain one at that…"

It took Dean longer than usual to form any sort of answer, this situation was definitely growing weirder by the moment, but still he found himself trying to rationalize it all. He needed right now to believe that this was all nothing more than a nightmare, he wasn't sure any of them could handle it if it were more than simply that. "What would you like me to say Sammy?"

"I don't know, but 'Oh' sure as hell doesn't seem like an adequate response in my book!" Anger was apparent in Sam's words as he growled.

"Well did you get a look at _this person?_"

"Don't say it like that!"

"Say what like what?" Dean's forehead wrinkled in question as he found his thoughts wandering,

How the hell could Sam have seen the _accident_? What if it was more than a nightmare? What would they do then? Was it some sort of past vision? Was there even such a thing? And the bleeding eyes… Where had they come from? There were no cuts he could see…. No injuries…

So much for rationalized thinking

"Say_ This person L_ike it's some sort of shocking unbelievable discovery! Like I haven't been hunting my whole life… Like it's not possible for things in our lives to be strange and not make sense… "

"Sam please." Dean used his free hand to rub his forehead mindlessly.

with an irritated sigh the blind man rolled his head from side to side the tension of the days events definitely catching up to him. He granted his brother's implied request to drop the conversation for the moment.

But he was not going to forget it….

"Why didn't you tell me you were having the impala brought here? Is this what you have been hiding from me for the past god knows how long?"

"I wasn't hiding anything from you…"

"That's bullshit and you know it" he growled low in his throat and forced his brother's grip off his arm before throwing both his hands up into the air in a move of defeat.

"C'mon Sammy…" Dean was tired and his words were pleading as he reached to re-grasp his brother's forearm without success

"You know what never mind… I am sure I can piece the answer together myself…It's not exactly like you are a book full of truth when it comes to me these days anyway."

"Sammy! That's not fair!"

"Fair? Do you really think that you have any right to stand here and talk to me about fair?" He paused at that moment knowing that now was far from the time to get into any of this, his brow raising " Just tell me one thing… And you owe me this much…. is there anything else I might stumble upon that It might benefit me to be aware of? Anything hiding in the deep dark corners of this endless abyss that I might find myself running face first into?"

"Of course n-"

"Think Dean. Think hard before you answer." Sam warned more than informed his voice cold and scolding sending trickles of ice into his older brother's heart as he watched Sam's jaw clench and then release his head now tilted up toward the sky almost as though he were bracing himself for another round of _Lie to the ignorant blind man._

"yeah." Dean's voice was soft, defeated, almost a perfect match to that which his brother had been using for the past months. "Yeah Sam there is..."

He didn't have it in him to weave another lie. After all he was only human, not a spider whose webs were endless.

Usually lying was second nature to the slyest of the Winchester men, but there was something about lying to his baby brother that brought a nasty, lasting taste into his mouth. A taste he was tired of living with for far to long now.

Under the current circumstances, He wanted to protect Sam so desperately, to shelter him from the things he could no longer defend himself against, but it had gone on long enough, Bobby was right, Sam was not an idiot and he was not a child, he had a right to know.

The longer Dean waited the more pain it would cause both himself and his brother.

Holding it in trying to deal with it without his trusty researching side kick Geek Boy was wearing down on him in more ways than one. He couldn't take it anymore.

Sam's head shifted toward his brothers general direction, a look of what almost appeared to be surprise spreading across his features "What it is Dean?" His tone was anxious.

After the events of the morning he was sure he'd be able to handle what was about to be thrown his way with the broadest of shoulders

"I think we need to go in and sit down before this conversation progresses." Bobby's voice was an order not a suggestion as he reappeared and slid his fingers around Sam's wrist stealing his attention and leading him up the front porch steps leaving no margin for argument.

Dean fought inwardly with himself, how was he going to tell his brother, the only 'blood' he had left in this world that he was right about one thing at least, that the accident that had changed his life forever wasn't an accident at all?

That someone had deliberately tried to murder him. Murder them both, but it was only Sam who'd unknowingly taken the bait?

It wasn't a demon, or a spirit, it wasn't some hell spawn…..

It was a living, breathing, flesh, blood and bone human being.

Rubbing the bridge of his nose as he stepped into the house Dean exhaled soundlessly, coming to only one conclusion as he felt the walls already beginning to close in around him, It was going to be a long day…

A very long day.


	5. Part Four 4810

The next few chapters will take us all back in time to just after the accident in a series of flashbacks that are important to the story and the growth of the characters, back when the story began it was already set this way so I'm hoping to be able to remodel some of it around the more recent episodes as best I can, but there are certain things that I have chosen to leave the way they originally were written. Thank you so much for your reviews and the next chapter is already ready so once a few of you have gotten caught up and are ready I will bring it on.

Also I'm looking for a beta if anyone is interested, mine moved away lol

_**WARNING: SUICIDE IMPLIED AND MAYBE SENSITIVE TO SOME READERS!!!**_

Title: **Through The Darkness**Category: TV Shows » SupernaturalAuthor: Lady Rosebud : : English, Rating: Rated: TGenre: Angst/General

**Chapter Four**

As the three men now sat yet again at the small dining room table each one as stoic as the one beside him, Dean found his mind taking him through the last few months, so much pain so much sorrow…. Yet they had come so far, now as he looked at his little brother's form beside him he wondered how the hell he was going to break him down again when he'd already been through so much worked so hard to get through each day….

How much more could any of them really take?

. . . . .

_Imagine a world where every step you take is a replica of the one before and no matter which direction you move you always end up the same place. Deeper and deeper into the darkness, no matter how fast you run, how many times you blink, or how hard you wish there is nothing you can do… There is no escaping it._

_That was the world in which Sam Winchester now stood, he could feel Dean's hands on his sides, feel his body being edged forward, yet in his mind he was going nowhere…_

_When his lashes hit his cheek and rose again, when he squeezed his eyes as hard as he could and opened them… _

_Nothing helped, nothing changed…._

_It was useless. He was useless._

"_Here we are…" Dean's voice interrupted Sam's self pity session as he moved from behind him to his side. "Just you know… Do as Dr. Rizzo told you and let your fingers be your eyes… Metaphorically of course." Rubbing his top lip with his forefinger as he spoke, Sam was not the one having to make adjustments to this new life, the only thing Dean had ever been taught to do was hunt, he could teach hunting or Demon defense with his hands tied behind his back, ear phones over his ears and his eyes closed with nothing more than a toothpick in his pocket. _

_But that was hunting… A skill he'd honed his whole life, something that he'd done almost everyday… when it came to hunting it was second nature… driven by Revenge… Passion… _

_He could defend himself simply on instincts alone when it came to evil._

_Sam had never been blind before… Sam had no instincts to protect him without his eyes to tell him where trouble lurked._

_And this wasn't even trouble brought on by the Supernatural world… _

_This was … Dog toys, doorways… carpet edges… untied shoe laces… That was only what laid inside the front door…. _

_Sam would never tell his brother how frightening it was when Dean's hand would fall from whatever limb he maybe holding on to… how quickly the panic would set in as he stood alone in the sea of blackness that now encompassed his world…. _

_How much he really needed his big brother behind him, beside him, protecting him and guiding him. _

_How petrifying it was to not have a set of eyes to see for him, even for a second standing alone seemed as terrifying as attempting to bungee jump off the great wall of china with a dollar store parachute…. _

_He would never tell Bobby how necessary he was in their lives, how much he needed the father figure and the strength that his uncle provided. How much he needed the stern and confident words that Bobby seemed to scream and demand at just the right moment._

_Feeling his brother's body stiffen Dean reached out and placed a calm steady hand on Sam's forearm. "Deep breaths Sammy… " He encouraged as he took Sam's hand and placed it into the closet on a section of clothing. "Familiarize yourself with the area… Bobby carved out labels for the colors and stuff… After you become more adjusted, and learn to use brail we can switch them out if you want."_

_That word caused bile to appear on Sam's tongue as he tilted his head down and slowly let his fingers dance over the objects before him. "Bobby carved tags???"_

"_He's had a lot of time on his hands these days…."_

_Sam snickered a little and shook his head, "Yeah…" his lip drew into his mouth and his mind created mental images with every stroke of his fingers._

_Clothing was no longer separated by colors and styles. _

_There was cotton, which was surprisingly different than flannel when put to the feel test, there was jean and leather… The scent of leather was so strong that he didn't even need to touch it to discover where it sat, his nose had drawn him straight to it…_

_Sam kneeled quietly and roamed the carpet slowly pacing his motions and attempting to catalog them the way he'd been taught to…_

_His fingers came to something long and rough and his head cocked a little, it was cold and metallic. He definitely took note of where that was._

"_Sammy?" Dean kneeled next to him and placed a hand on the small of his back. Stealing away his thoughts and startling him slightly, his hand came up and came into contact with Dean's jaw line. "It's alright…"_

"_So-sorry.." He whispered a little._

"_It's alright…" Dean nodded a little putting his hand over Sammy's and gripping it a little. "Deep breath, I know this is a lot to take in, it's your first day home…. We are going to get through this…"_

"_I- I know…" Sam nodded tapping the cheek under his palm and smiled a little, "I know…." He let his hand fall._

_Dean knew that this was what the doctor had told him would happen over the passing months that the loss of sight was like the loss of a loved ones, that the 'death' of Sam's eyes was going to send him through an array of emotions._

_Denial. _

"_Where were you just now?" He questioned quietly referring to Sam's mental and not physical state. _

"_The impala…" Sam lied quietly keeping his true thoughts to himself as inside his mind all the pieces came together and he knew what he was going to have to do, how he was going to make everything right again for everyone involved…_

_Dean flinched at the mention of his beloved car, his number one girl, Who was now no more than a pile of charred metal and horrifying memories, the pain of all of this still to fresh and to real to think anymore than five minutes ahead._

"_I'm sorry about…."_

"_Don't you even think about finishing that thought…"_

_Sam nodded a little, "I'm really tired now, Do you think that we could finish this later…?"_

_. . . . ._

_Have you ever tasted the barrel of a gun against your lips, felt the power course through your veins as your finger rested on a trigger that held the salvation you had been longing for? _

_Thoughts of a world far beyond this one entice every ounce of your being and for the first time in as long as you can remember you have even the slightest recollection of what happiness feels like inside your soul._

_The remedy to your pain, your suffering and your struggles rests in a single simple squeeze from your finger… You have convinced yourself so completely that this is the right answer for everyone involved that you have finally found piece with your decision._

_Sam had lost so much in such a short time that the thought of losing anything else was unbearable… He had no choice he knew that, he accepted that… He'd face a worse fate if he stuck around and burdened the world with his presence any longer. _

_He sat down to write out his goodbyes in the silence of the night and then he would tuck them beneath the sheets that separated his flesh from his mattress… _

_he wondered if anyone was even going to be able to read them, his words would be hardly legible … _

_Before he'd even written a word forcing his fingers to find pen and paper he'd told himself it would make him feel better just writing it, and goodbye would erase the wonderment from his choice in the minds of the few left who loved him and they needed that._

_He writes out the first sentence to his last hurrah. Having contemplated the wording so many times in his head that he was sure when the time came it would spill out quick and effortlessly. _

_Even if he could not see it's flow he was confident that it would, he set his mind to the same channel he use to when he was writing a thesis back at Stanford about the justice system and legal practices in the state of California. He would lay out the facts and support his findings, all the while thinking of it as no more than another paper._

_Otherwise he knew he would not be able to make it through and he would wimp out. _

_**It's not your fault Dean. **__Sam knew that his older brother would be the first to take the blame, not just for Sam's actions but for everything that had happened in the previous weeks. _

_So he began by getting straight to the point. _

_Sam finds himself unwillingly picturing his brother's face when he sees the path he's chosen, and hopes that one day he will be forgiving. _

_Sam grows angry when his thoughts bring him there, cracking his professional exterior and letting just a sliver of emotion find it's way in. _

_You are a coward, he tells himself and brings a hand up to the back of his neck clearing his throat… _

_A coward, but it is more than that. What good was he now really? He couldn't protect Dean like this, he couldn't do anything except for create more worry and hindrance. Choosing to take this road gave at least one of them a chance, Dean will thank him someday when they meet again, in the meantime his life can be full again and he can move forward… _

_Dean would for lack of a better phrase, get over it with time…. _

_Sam chooses his next words carefully __**Chick flick moment or not, You need to know that I'm thankful for you as my brother. **__He resists the urge to fallow it up with 'I'm just sorry I had to be yours.' and shook his head softly dropping the pen for a moment and letting his fingers roam over the smooth surface for a minute…. Or maybe several… He contemplates as he reaches the pages edge crumbling the page, tearing it to pieces…_

_Scraping the whole idea and dealing head on with what he was facing. That was selfish, he could never force himself on his loved ones like that, he had so few left he had to do this for them, make life easier on them._

_He needed to remember that. Force himself to choke on his emotions and plunge forward. Force these words out and finish this all before he lost his nerve._

_He found the pen again and swallowed hard gripping it so tightly in his palm that his knuckles turned white. _

"_Do the right thing…" he whispered to himself._

_**I know you would have given anything to have given me a different life than the one we inherited. I know because you told me… What you never realized was that the choices I made… And even this choice is my own. You showed up in my living room that night but every step from then on took me where I made the decision to go.**_

_**The funniest part? I'd do it all the same again because it gave me back a brother I had convinced myself I lost. **_

_Lost. So much emotion inside that one little word, especially if your last name was Winchester. It seemed like grief was more common in their world than happiness. _

_That thought made Sam's chest ache, he was only going to add to that list. The list of people that Dean had lost had so many names on it that if rivaled most peoples Christmas lists._

_**Remember Me…**_

_He sighed quietly and removed his glasses from his face placing them on the small desk and running his free hand over the scar tissue that would forever grace his flesh._

_His skin trembled and he bit back a sob choking out a small curse word in it's place. His bandages had been removed earlier that day… Bobby had removed them himself to avoid more hospital bills and fraudulent credit cards._

_The burns had faded but the glass tears and surgical scaring was rough against his touch. Using his forefinger he traced the jagged lines over his eyelid to his temple picturing his disfigurement in his mind as he did so… The one on the left went left slightly at his temples and branched out into three smaller lines, the one on the right, the side that was furthest from the blast was smaller and had less definition to it… It Began above his eye lid and curved down after about half a centimeter before continuing about another quarter of an inch and stopping suddenly._

_He'd spent a good hour examining them and almost relishing in the stomach churning disgust it made him feel in the pit of his stomach… He needed to know. Needed to be sure. Needed to see. _

_So that he could be sure. And yet again he was. Picking up his pen he continued on._

_**Remember me as I was, not as I am. **_

_**Don't hold this against me, it is better to have lived a single day in the sunlight with the wind across my face and go out on my own terms, than to let the darkness devour me until any emotions I have left have fallen from my grasp and I am left alone in this sea of black, alive without living. **_

_If only… Sam could admit even to himself that the blackness had already swallowed him whole and spit him out a lesser man than he'd ever been_

_**Tell Bobby not to kick my ass to hard when he makes his way to which ever gates we hunters are meant to stand at. Thanks Bobby, look out for Dean, he needs you now even though he'll never tell you that himself. He does.**_

_**I don't know how to end this, there are few words… few ways to tell you I'm sorry for the screw-ups our lives have suffered. We've been through a lot, but that chapter is over now… It's time for me to travel within you instead of beside you.**_

_**Dean…**_

_Silent tears fell down his cheeks now sending searing pains shooting through his eyes._

_He didn't care._

_He knew that this next statement in any other circumstances would be cause for one gigantic ass whooping for his girlishness, but he figured… just this once he could be forgiven_

_He didn't deserve it, he knew that… but he hoped for it all the same._

_**I know the burden that you carried having me for a little brother, I know what dad laid on your shoulders and what you laid on them yourself… Don't think it goes unnoticed… You're my big brother, my best friend… I've looked up to you and wanted to be like you for as long as I could remember.. Even now I wish I were as brave as you, as strong as you… **_

_**But I'm not. **_

_So many more things he wanted to say now swam inside his head, but nothing fit just right, nothing seemed to close off the last words he had to offer more than a simple statement he'd used before and one he hadn't quite used often enough…_

_**You're my brother, I love you… Grieve for me.. But then let me go… after all…**_

_**You've got work to do.**_

_He'd wanted to sign it, but his hand could not form the letters, the finality even to someone so ready to let go was to much…._

_He knew he had little time left anyway… He could hear the birds outside the window and smell the grass as the morning dew bathed it sending its fragrance in through the window on the far wall. _

_Rising to his feet Sam used his feet to nudge his way forward until he found his bed and kneeled next to it folding the piece of paper and running his fingers over it once more before feeling his way to placing it beneath the sheets._

_He'd known the night before that it was going to be a sleepless night for Dean…. So many had always been that there was no way to correct his sleeping pattern so late in the game, so Sam knew he would be alone not only on the inside but the outside as well long enough to finish his thoughts and scribble them down. _

_Sure enough he was._

_He'd just dropped his jeans and climbed into bed when he heard the door open and Dean's voice filled the room a sound that tore through Sam in ways he'd known it would but was willing to endure for the time being…_

"_You ok in here Sam? It's almost Eleven. Time to rise and shine." He'd chirped his tone sounding almost…. Almost normal._

"_I'm fine…." Sam forced a smile to his face and sat up slowly, "Everything is fine." he lied._

_He knew it would be _

_. . . . ._

_As the days passed by Sam waited, he waited as patiently as a monk awaiting salvation on top of the highest mountain, Dean fussed, Bobby fussed… Sam smiled, Dean pushed, Bobby pushed, Sam smiled._

_He smiled though it all, smiled through the pain and the struggles, smiled through the lectures and the screams… he smiled because he knew it wouldn't be long until like that monk on the mountaintop, his salvation was coming, and soon peace would finally be his._

_Sam found it odd how once the decision had come into his mind to let go and he'd finalized his preparations the smiles came more easy to him and he was more relaxed than he had been for years, even before this blindness than now plagued him . He was by all accounts happy again._

_It took fifteen days before the opportunity now stood at his feet, 'Fifteen days until Dean and Bobby had felt comfortable enough to leave Sam alone. _

_As they stepped outside the front door Dean looked back at his brother sitting in the living room listening to CNN, Anderson Coopers voice bouncing annoyingly loud off the walls of the house as his little brother listened to his every words intensely._

_If Dean would have looked harder he would have noticed, it was almost to intensely. As though nothing else mattered. Because to a man who'd decided to die… Nothing else did._

_A knot the size of a Texas donut had formed in his stomach and he'd learned at a young age that his instincts were his only guide in life…. So why then did he ignore them this time as he found himself creating a lasting memory of his baby brother in his minds eye. Sam sat quiet and still with his head tilted back, it was the clench of his jaw and the slight smile on his lips that showed how intensely he was listening to the television._

_Dean had wondered how so suddenly two weeks ago his little brother's attitude had shifted so completely into the positive, he should have questioned it… But he didn't, the truth was he was thankful for it, relieved by it, and was to afraid to look a gift horse in the mouth._

_Yet still he could not bring himself to take the last steps out the door, he shook his head and wrote it off as anxiety, understandable anxiety at that, he'd almost lost his Sammy the last time he'd left him alone, he'd never forgive himself for that one, even if it wasn't his fault. He needed to look at him every chance he could, needed to study him and remind himself what he had… Because far to quickly it had almost been stolen from him and he didn't know what he would do without him._

"_Dean." Bobby came up behind him and sighed a little, "Come on… He'll be alright, Rumsfield is here with him." _

_Dean nodded a little, "I just can't shake this feeling…"_

"_That feeling? The one inside your gut that's petrifying you from the inside out?"_

"_Yeah…. How'd you know?"_

"_It's called fear, it's called worry, it's called if you don't get your ass in the truck right now I'm going to kick it from here to the second coming…. Sam is a big boy, we won't be to long just need to go pick a few things up down at the hardware store before the storm hits." He looked above his head at the dark clouds quickly approaching._

"_Sam we'll be back alright? You just listen to your program and…."_

"_Good-bye Dean…. See ya bobby." \_

_A chill ran down Dean's spine and he swallowed before turning toward the truck, away from his little brother, heading down the walk way._

_As soon as he heard the old pick-up truck start up with a bang and amble down the road Sam rose to his feet his hands going out in front of him, he'd already counted the number of steps it would take him to get from the living room to the bedroom closet. 28 steps._

_28 steps to freedom._

_28 steps and the trap door encasing his life would lift and he could run away._

_As he kneeled down having found the long rectangular box with his feet first, his hands were surprisingly steady as they opened it and he let his fingers caress their father's hunting rifle._

_Through the darkness, buried beneath it, he could see the dark blue velvet lining as he moved his hand along it and searched for the small inside pocket that held what remained of the guns original bullets, if his mind served him correctly there would be two tucked safely inside._

_He only needed one. _

_He gripped it inside his palm and rolled it around a little, feeling it's lead against his flesh, So much power. So much strength inside one little metal casing it was almost taunting at how intimidating it's size was, _

_With a smirk he tucked it inside his shirt pocket and let his hands fall back into the case,_

_It was like beautiful music the way they danced against the key to his eternity,_

_a smile even wider than the one he'd wore for the past few weeks pressed against his lips as he lifted it into his grasp and rose again to his feet._

_As he then took the 11 steps to the foot of his bed, stopping to flip on his clock radio, muffling the sound was not his intention… he just…. Wanted a little Dean beside him while he let himself go._

_He found himself thinking about the bitter yet beautiful irony that the gun he held in his grasp contained._

_His father's hunting rifle. _

_Hunting in the animal sense. Not the demonic sense._

_When John Winchester began his hunt for revenge against the things that go bump in the night, this was the only gun he'd owned…. _

_It was nothing compared to the arsenal he possessed the day of his death. _

_It was all a meager salary mechanic who owned a small shop in a shit splat southern town needed… Enough to take his boys hunting on the weekends… _

_Trying to teach his son's a little tradition and give them a small sense of family life, John retired the gun only a few weeks after he turned to a life on the road, a life of demons and spirits, a life that required more than a deer hunters riffle. _

_He pulled it out first on Dean's then Sam's 16__th__ birthday's… Like any suburban father handing over the keys to the family torus to learn to drive… It was handed down, loaded with rock salt and taken for a test drive. _

_The first mission was never one of immense danger a small vengeful spirit used to teach the boys about the thrill of the hunt and the safety provided by watching each other's back… to teach them the feeling of a gun in their grasp, a trigger pull against their finger and the force a single shot sends pulsing through your flesh._

_Sam had held it stepping into his manhood and it was ironically fitting that he held it stepping out as well. _

_It amazed him how loading a gun was like riding a bike, once you knew how you never forgot and could complete the task blindfolded. His fingers moved swift and efficient._

_From memory alone he saw his fingers move his held tilted back as he pressed the pieces together with a loud metallic snap. He'd never thought it possible, but he'd actually missed that sound it made him feel whole again as it rang through his ears._

_Like a man._

_A human being. _

_Like Sam Winchester. _

_With a deep intake of breath he exhaled, and took a moment to himself asking god to forgive him for the road he'd traveled in life and some of the choices he'd made that had been less than holy, praying for his brother and their "uncle". _

_Praying that they would forgive him the way he hoped god would. _

_As his prayer ended he chuckled out loud listening to the radio as the local DJ announced Metallica's Fade to black and he heard it begin to play._

_**Life it seems will fade awayDrifting further every dayGetting lost within myselfNothing matters, no one elseI have lost the will to liveSimply nothing more to giveThere is nothing more for meNeed the end to set me free**_

_He found himself humming along to the words as his mind brought him to the most insignificant of memories, _

"_Are you humming Metallica?" He heard himself ask somewhere in the back of his mind the low rumble of the plane beneath him an odd comfort._

"_It calms me down." There was an edge in Dean's voice that Sam had heard very few times in his life and he found it oddly entertaining. _

_Those were the words Sam needed to repeat to himself now, as calm as he had been, as sweet as his destiny had felt inside him since his decision had been made…_

_Now that he held it in his hand, now that within moments peace would find him…._

_His heart was pounding, his palms were sweating…_

_Calmness had fallen from him…_

_**Things not what they used to beMissing one inside of meDeathly lost, this can't be realCannot stand this hell I feel…**_

_**Emptiness is filling meTo the point of agonyGrowing darkness taking dawnI was me but now he's gone**_

_Removing his glasses from his eyes he set them beside himself and lifted the riffle to his lips, He had touched so many things since his sight had been stolen from him, but until now he'd felt none of those things… They were just objects…._

_This was reality…_

_Finality…._

_The bedspread beneath him bunched against his jean covered thighs as he shifted a little and closed his lids tightly even though it would make no difference._

_Metal he'd discovered…_

_Tasted oddly like blood._

_Metallic and warmed by his breath against his tongue._

_**No one but me can save myselfBut it's too lateNow I can't thinkThink why I should even tryYesterday seems as thoughIt never existedDeath greets me warmNow I will just say goodbye**_

_His tears are hot against his now sweat covered clammy cheeks as he realizes unwillingly beside himself he is crying, a quiet desperate sob as the song ends._

_This world has been so cruel to him, taken so much from him. Left him beaten and bruised caged inside himself. _

_He needed to let go…_

_He wanted to let go…._

_He had nothing left…._

"_If you pull that trigger there will be no turning back…" The voice that filled his ears startled him so suddenly that his body jumped up off the bed nearly a foot before settling again…_

"_It's a good thing I taught you to steady your trigger finger." The voice joked as he felt a body slide down next to him on the bed._

_Sam lowered the gun from his lips and swallowed hard as he let his lashes lift from his cheek, still only darkness surrounded him…. "Am- Am I dead?" He asked the figure sounding fearful and disappointed, he'd figured that after the trigger had been pulled even if he'd ended up in hell his eye sight would return to him…_

"_No Sammy…."_

"_Then… How." Sam dropped the gun from his grasp and let his fingers roam the comforter slowly until they did indeed come into contact with a solid form. He felt a hand whose grasp was familiar and strong grab hold of it and gently place it against a stubble covered cheek._

_Words failed him, his breath hitched as his head lowered and he brought his other hand up to examine this figure…_

_His fingers shook. _

_Beginning at the strongly defined jaw line much like his own that gave way to sideburns and a head of uncombed, disheveled hair soiled by at least two days of un-washing._

"_It can't…" Sam drew his lip into his mouth and bit down on it hard, this had to be some sort of trick, but the hand still resting atop his own was so comforting…. So real…._

_A sob fell from his mouth, it wasn't loud but it was heart wrenching as his lowered head shook back and forth and he wished if for only a moment his eyes could be returned to him…_

_The age lines against an otherwise smooth forehead, the rounded nose tip after a long slope and the thin line lips beneath an unshaven mustache line…_

_Familiar. _

_Warm…._

_Sam's blind eyes became moist again and he swallowed again and again trying to contain his emotions. _

_He couldn't bring himself to say the word… to ask it…. He couldn't.. He must be delusional. _

_His hand rested once again against the man's cheek and he felt the pressure holding it there increase…_

"_I'm here Sammy… I'm right here…" The man coaxed in a tone Sam had only heard once maybe twice before, in the years of his childhood._

"…_. Are…. Are you…"_

"_Am I What? Real?"_

_Sam nodded not trusting his voice all his words sounding like the broken and devastated soul that he was making him feel pathetic and weak._

"_I guess, real enough."_

"_Dad…" Sam coughed he couldn't comprehend it, he couldn't explain it, but he was thankful for it._

_Illusion or not._

_Release overtook him and he slumped forward his shoulders shaking uncontrollably. _

_He felt an embrace he'd longed for since he'd lost it. _

_He felt his body pressed into his father's chest and allowed himself to cry freely. He heard himself ask in a voice he hardly recognized, begging… Pleading…"Daddy please…. Please help me…"_

"_That's why I'm here son… You have strength you don't even know you have, you are strong enough…. You-"_

"_I can't do this alone dad…"_

"_Your not alone, your brother is beside you…. Always beside you, and Bobby as much as I hate to admit it and I still think of him as a stubborn old fool, I could have never asked for a better set of wings to protect you."_

"_They deserves their lives back I can't burden them with my demons when there are so many out there who need their attention."_

_John Held his grown son's body against him tighter it was odd how even at nearly six foot three he still fit so perfectly there. His left hand cupped protectively against his cheek his eyes closed and buried into his uncombed chestnut brown hair._

_Made of flesh or memory even he himself was unsure, but this moment as he held his little boy close it was his job to be neither of those…. _

_He was a father holding his son. Protecting him._

"_You need him and he knows that… You are first in his life, always have. You need to remember that. Let them help you. Let them be there for you and everything you are looking for will come in time."_

"_Daddy…" It was a toddler's whisper that would have broken John's heart if it were able to beat._

"_Sammy, the days that pass from here on will give you so many answers that it will all make sense." John smiled and pulled his son's form back a little running a hand through the younger man's hair. "Your mother is so proud of you… We can't wait to see you again and we will…. But now is not the time."_

_Seeing the man before him John saw flickers of a child he'd raised who at four fell off his bike at Uncle Jims and with blood spotted paint legs kicked the training wheel that in his mind had caused the accident. Crawling into his father's lap he'd sobbed as Dean had tended to his quickly scabbing wounded knees._

"_be a thunder-cat Sammy, strong, brave…. Fearless." John coaxed into his four year olds ear as he set him down again, "Don't be defeated… Even when something seems monstrous and huge… it can be brought down to size if you just tell yourself not to be afraid and face your fears head on."_

"_Daddy I'm scared." The four year old voice of his son meshed with that of his now grown son. _

"_A thunder-cat Sammy… Brave and fearless…" He repeated before continuing. "The truth is going to bring on a storm unlike anything you or your brother have ever faced, but as hard as it's going to get I promise you you'll be alright… _

_Just hold your head high and even surrounded by darkness a silver lining can be seen when you look in the right direction…"_

_The message was as cryptic as they came but Sam held to his fathers every word with a desperate grasp. _

_He knew this was ending, Whatever 'this' was… He felt as though he felt his father's grasp release him…. _

"_Please…. Don't leave me yet….." He breathed out as a euphoria he didn't even know had been surrounding him began to split down it's center and fall away._

"_Just hang in there son. And that's an Order"_

_His father's voice morphed into the familiar bark of Rumsfield and Sam's eyes flickered open;_

_Had it all been a dream? His father, the riffle…. _

_He could feel something cold, long and hard against the outside of his thigh as the faint scent his father bore of gas station refried burritos and motor oil transformed into the scent of motor oil and cheap cologne._

_Nope no such luck. _

_His eyes fluttered open to the same repetitive darkness as he felt a face close to his won bringing his hand up to investigate even though he already knew who it was._

_It was Dean. _

_So close his breath was hot and venomous against Sam's flesh. _

_Dean was pissed, _

_Features tight and stone like on his face._

_Sam was screwed._

_With shaky fingers Sam found his brother's cheeks to be dew streaked and his lips curved into a frown._

_Dean had been crying._

_The smell told him he was still at home in his room._

_The heat told him it was still mid day._

_Dean shoved Sam's hand away forcefully after only a few seconds his voice loud and full of so much anger, even for Dean it was unlike him to be so pissed. "Where the hell do you think you get off?" He boomed Sam could tell by the hiss in his tone just how angry he was._

_And for once the younger man was glad he did not have to see the man starring so disapprovingly at him._

"_I should knock you out again on principle alone." _

"_I think once is enough." Bobby's voice broke through and Sam felt the oldest hunter shove something into his palm, it was cold… freezing…. Icey… As he fingered it. _

"_You are going to have quite the shiner." Bobby quipped_

"_And you deserve it too!" Dean snapped as Sam could now hear his brother pacing the floor…_

"_Dean I'm sorry…" Sam sat up his shoulder's slumping.._

"_Why because I stopped you before you pulled the trigger?"_

"_Because I've ruined your life and-"_

_Dean was on the bed in an instant his face only centimeters from Sam's, "Never say that again! YOU HEAR ME?!"_

"_But I-" _

"_Sam" it took everything Dean had to put his emotions back in check. _

_He wasn't quite used to the whole literally touchy feely thing that having a blind little brother required as he took Sam by the back of the neck and forced his head a little closer so that their foreheads were touching, so that each of them knew the other was there. So Sam could feel and hear his words. _

_Speaking them not to his ears but to his soul, it was that single moment that sappy hallmark cards were written about._

"_The only way you would ruin my life is if you remove yourself from it."_

_A minute later the moment passed and an uncomfortable silence engulfed all three men._


	6. Part Five 43010

_**Have you ever seen blind eyes cry? There is more emotion in a single tear from a blind eye than a dozen from that of a man who can see. **_

_**The clouded white veil that falls so suddenly over the eyes of a man shielding his view of the world when his sight is stolen from him does not hide, but rather intensifies the emotion that can be found inside of him.**_

_**Within a single tear you can find all his pain, his frustration, his anger and his sadness, the images he can no longer see, the memories he is desperate to hold onto, his quiet and yet heartfelt sobs, the loss, the grief, the suffocating reality, it all becomes clear and a word never has to fall from his lips when there is a tear sliding from his now useless eyes.**_

_**This is what Dean knew now as he stood just inside the front door of their new small living quarters. They had only been at Bobby's for 4 days… Sam had only been released from the hospital ninety-one hours ago, and sixty-seven of those he'd spent laying in his room pretending to sleep… pretending that if he laid there long enough he would wither away to nothing or wake-up from this horrendous nightmare that had so suddenly become his life. **_

_**But regardless now here he was, placed at the mercy of his fingertips and the far to compassionate voice of his brother. His body was weak, his fingers shook as he fought to remember and kept reminding himself of all the things that his assisted living "coach." or more appropriately titled pain in the ass nurse had taught him before his release**_

_**His head tilted slightly to the left Sam tried to focus only on his brother's breathing he could hear softly originating from the far side of the room, trying to singling it out from the rest of the sounds around him he snarled with disapproval and thrust his hands out in front of him., **_

_**The small tinkers every other old house on the planet had seemed magnified in the home of Robert Singer on this frigidly cold day in November. **_

"_**Fallow my voice Sammy." Dean made sure his words carried both volume and authority.**_

"_**I can't." Sam's tone was gruff and bitter as he spoke, they had been at this for almost an hour now and he hadn't moved more than three feet in the obstacle course that was Bobby's living room. All he really wanted to do was be lead back to his bed, crawl under his covers and never rise from them again.**_

"_**Not with an attitude like that you can't."**_

"_**The clocks to loud, the dogs nails on the kitchen floor are distracting and the damn bird outside the window keeps chirping every time I think I've got you pin pointed, Not to mention these floor boards even with the carpet on top of them are as squeaky as a nagging grandmother…."**_

"_**Which is what you are sounding like, now shut up and just listen alright?"**_

"_**Dean…."**_

"_**Dr. Rizzo says that the only way you are going to learn independence is to learn to use your remaining senses and teach them to over compensate for your vision loss…." **_

"_**Well If you stand there much longer in this heat I'm sure I'll be able to smell my way to you soon enough."**_

"_**If nothing else it's a plus that your vocal cords are getting a work out I suppose."**_

"_**Bite me. Jerk."**_

_**Dean smiled to himself a small tinge of satisfaction coming to his face as he replied the way he had so many times before. "Bitch, Concentrate."**_

"_**I don't know what the point is…" Sam mumbled forcing his feet forward cautiously his left had on instinct moving to his side his fingers moving like the flowerless weeds swaying outside the junkyard gate in the bitter November winds. **_

_**The wood grain was rough and splintery as his fingers brushed against it softly and he swallowed sharply as one of its small slivers pierced his flesh. **_

_**He wondered if he was bleeding.**_

_**He remembered blood.**_

_**He would always remember blood, his life had shown him so much that he knew even if he forgot everything else… The faces of his loved ones, the beauty of a sunset the essence of color in itself, as everything faded from memory and became nothing more than an object against his flesh….. Some **_

_**He would always remember the thick crimson river that flowed through the veins of every living animal in existence. **_

_**There was more irony in that realization than anything else in his mangled life.**_

_**He'd spilled so much of it… Killed so many both the innocent… and not.**_

_**He'd watched so many die at hands that were not his own… **_

_**Seen enough blood shed to have fought every war in Americas' history.**_

_**Seen the life drain from those he held closest, those whose faces he may very well one day be no longer able to recollect….**_

_**Their faces would slip from his minds eye….**_

_**But not the rivers that carried their souls away and stole them from him, just as he felt deep inside himself his sight had been.**_

_**And now as everything else faded to darkness, the one thing he'd wished he'd never seen at all…. He knew was the only thing he would never forget.**_

_**Without realizing it, the cold winter bitten wall had led him to the middle of the living room and like an unlicensed learner's permit totting driver within seconds Sam felt himself collide with without warning with something large and heavy, his limbs smacked down with a thud against the carpeted wooden slats of the floor and he laid there motionless. Sadly he had not been lucky enough to lose consciousness, but his ego had taken yet another hearty blow. **_

"_**SAMMY!" Dean's warning reached his ears to late and he received a loud groan in reply. "I told you to hang a left." he scolded unintentionally as he gripped his brothers wrist and helped him to his feet, "Are you alright?"**_

_**It had all happened so fast Sam had hardly registered a thing until Dean's words were directly in his ear. "I uh…. Got a little distracted.." He grimaced and pulled his wrist free. "Why are we even doing this?" He questioned with a grunt.**_

_**A pang of sadness tore though Dean's chest as his brother's face was now only inches from his own and he was able to see how tired and run down his baby brother had become. The lines of anguish and sorrow that now creased the corners of his mouth, the wrinkles of frustration and uncertainty decorating his forehead. "Because the doctor also says that the sooner you begin the transition back into the sighted world the sooner you can have your old life back…"**_

_**They both knew that was the biggest joke they'd ever heard but the statement remained unspoken as Sam shook his head his jaw setting in determination, "I don't need Dr. Rizzo or her transitional living bullshit Dean…."**_

_**Dean sighed softly and shook his head to himself, there were so many times these past months that Sam had reminded him of their childhood, and this was definitely one of those times. As he stood before him like a toddler prepping for a tantrum his nose twitching in time with his un-evened breathing as he clenched and unclenched his fists that were now resting against each of his thighs. "Sam. How do you expect to move forward if you don't accept a little help?"**_

"_**We don't need to move forward… We can just hang out here until my eyes heal up and-"**_

"_**Sam…" Dean could hardly speak that single little word as that small pain in his chest from early now exploded and reached from his throat to his toes.**_

"_**What Dean?… It's not like stranger things haven't happened to us. They will heal and we…" **_

_**Dean took hold of his brothers now shaking hand, "Not this time Sammy." He cleared his throat a little swallowing the massive lump it suddenly contained down and drawing in an unsteady breath, they'd had this conversation before Sam had left the hospital, they'd had it a month ago…**_

_**But still Dean knew Sam found himself hoping, waiting for a miracle that would never come, even in their line of work miracles never came knocking… At least not without a price that out weighed their worth.**_

"_**Don't." Sam chide pulling his hand back, "I refuse to hear this from you after what we see everyday in our lives… I can't believe you would just give up on me like this…"**_

"_**Sam, that's not what I'm doing and you know it…" **_

_**Dean took a step toward his brother as Sam stumbled back a little, but the younger man caught his footing on his own and thrust his hand out satisfied when it came in contact with his brothers chest halting him in mid step. "Don't. Don't you dare think you are going to just throw me away like some useless piece of garbage… My eyes will get better! THEY WILL " His voice rose in volume as though he were convincing himself, his inner child, his battered soul… more than his brother. "THEY WILL…"**_

"_**No Sam." Dean gripped his brother's wrist once again this time hard and demandingly forcing his hand from his chest. "You need to accept this…"**_

"_**I won't."**_

"… _**Sammy"**_

"_**Don't you Sammy me! You'll see…."**_

"_**The Doctors told you Sam-" **_

"_**They don't know, they haven't been where we've been, seen what we've seen, they don't-"**_

"_**THEY DO SAM" Dean felt his wall of composure crumble down to his feet as he gripped tightly to the wrist in his grasp looking intensely into the face in front of him even though his stare could not be reciprocated, "This time… They do…"**_

"_**PISS OFF" A deep growl rose from the hallow insides of the youngest Winchester as his teeth clanked together, he was angry so damn angry… As he felt his free hand ball into a fist so tight that his nails sliced into his palm. He was not going down like this, he was not going to live his life as some useless waste of space, he was going to get his eyes back… Dean didn't know shit…. None of them knew shit…. Not like he knew.**_

_**Thick white bandages still covered his Sammy's eyes the burned areas to tender to be exposed to the harsh elements of day. "YOU ARE A HUMAN BEING AND THERE ARE LIMITATIONS, IT SUCKS MORE THAN MONICA LEWINSKY I GET THAT OK I DO… **_

_**BUT IT IS WHAT IT IS AND THE SOONER YOU ACCEPT IT THE SOONER YOU CAN BEGIN TO HEAL IN THE PLACES THAT REALLY COUNT." Dean's words were loud and strong, his voice echoing throughout the house and bouncing off of its old walls their strength and power cracking into the protective stubbornness that had become a shield around Sam's hardened mind body and soul. **_

"_**YOU. KNOW. NOTHING. ABOUT. HEALING."**_

"_**ACCEPT IT SAMMY."**_

"_**YOU ACCEPT IT, I WILL CHANGE IT."**_

"_**YOU CAN'T… NOT THIS TIME."**_

"_**I WILL…. I DON'T KNOW HOW… BUT I WILL."**_

"_**YOU CAN'T."**_

"_**I CAN!!! WHO ARE YOU TO TELL ME WHAT I CAN'T DO? WHO THE HELL ARE YOU TO RUN MY LIFE? I RUN MY LIFE. I RUN IT DAMNIT. I HAVE CONTROL. NOT YOU. NOT THE DOCTORS…. Me"**_

"_**Sammy… please… " Dean lowered his voice and closed his eyes, but made no move to pull himself closer or step further away, it was almost as though both of them were frozen where they stood…. Held by anger…. Sadness…. Pain… shackled by an array of emotion that tore both of them to pieces even though neither one would admit it.**_

"_**NO!" The younger man could think of nothing else to say, no other retort as his voice escaped him and he swallowed three times in a row unable to get air in his lungs his head shaking back and forth repeatedly almost as if he were attempting to shake off the darkness himself. **_

_**His world was spinning, even blanketed in black his world seemed to spin faster and faster as the reality of Dean's words hit him like the handle end of a salt gun to his gut. **_

_**Dean could see it as it stretched slow and agonizingly across Sam's features… "It's okay." He coaxed finding the will to move once again, this was the moment that Sam had needed, that defined the beginning of he new life and his road to recovering the best he possibly could… "It'll be okay…"**_

"_**Dean… D-Don't…" his tone was small and pleading as he felt his hand being lifted and felt vomit rising against his will into his throat.**_

_**Dean took his brother's hand and frowned as he pulled off the dark ray ban sunglasses he'd purchased… Well Clark Welling had purchased, before Sam's release, and thrust them to the ground . Gently he raised Sam's fingers and pressed them into the bandages covering his face cautiously. **_

_**Sam's flesh trembled and he choked back a gag as the thick, course cotton fiber was now beneath his hand. The only thing separating his flesh from the mangled remains of his eyes. **_

"…_**." Sam's breaths began to come out faster as a small sob like sound escaped his lips and he leaned heavier against the wall his shoulders slumping his knees buckling under the weight of his reality…**_

_**His body… His world… was to heavy for him to hold up anymore.**_

_**This was not happening to him….**_

_**This was not happening to him…..**_

_**This was not his life….**_

_**A nightmare this was just a nightmare….**_

_**He would wake up soon….**_

_**This was someone else, a horrible trick…..**_

_**A trickster….**_

_**Anything… Anything aside from reality….**_

_**He tried to tell himself anything and everything he could inside his fractured mind to prevent what remained of his composure… his sanity from failing him.**_

_**But nothing worked, the harder he tried to come up with something the more realistic and prominent the bandages became against his fingers.**_

"_**Feel those Sam?" Dean questioned sadness and frustration in his words as he watched the before mentioned an array of emotions play like a silent heart wrenching film across his baby brother's face, a face he'd sworn to protect with his last breath and every ounce of his being……**_

_**A face that he'd failed.**_

_**A face filled with so much pain and anger, loss and loneliness that it hardly seemed fair.**_

_**feeling resistance from the hand in his own he held faster to it, attempting to force away the sadness from his tone "FEEL THEM!!! They're real Sam…" he spat.**_

_**To soon though his words cracked as he tried to hold it all in and cleared his throat, he needed to be strong… **_

_**He was the rock, he was the wall, the support and he had no right to break. He needed to remain intact to pull them both through this… if it was the last thing he did. " It's all real…. You can't run from it, and you can't change it…. It just is…" **_

_**Sam allowed the forces weighing him down to win over now, his buckling knees giving way as his long and lengthy frame crumpled to the ground his ridged limbs like J-ello . The battle was fought…. The war had ended…**_

_**Sam had lost.**_

_**Dean wiped his sweating palms on his jeans and used the back of his hand to brush away moisture from his eyes as he cleared his throat yet again and slid down beside his younger and now fragile brother. Placing his hand on Sam's knee he leaned his head back against the wall and let out a breath he'd been holding in for months now. **_

"_**We'll get through this Sammy, you and me…. We will get through this…" Dean let his voice trail off and silence engulfed them as they sat there alone together each one trapped in his own agony, both of them trying to feed off what little strength the other contained.**_

**This was the memory Dean replayed as he now sat across from his little brother, there was an innocence about Sam these days, a vulnerability that came with the lack of knowledge that he had the pleasure of being blind to… No pun intended of course….**

**An innocence Dean was about to rob him of… steal from him in the same way his sight had been stolen.**

"**Sam. I got a call this morning…." He whispered slowly, treading carefully before he had even entered into the dangerous waters of such a touchy subject. **

"**Okay." Sam nodded a little and smiled into his cup as he took a sip of his fresh serving of coffee trying to down play the serious tone in his older siblings voice. "That tends to happen when you have a phone! Don't-"**

"**It was from Huston Sammy…."**

**Sam's smile faltered and he placed his cup back down on to the table in front of him fearful that if he did not he would drop it within a matter of seconds. "Brady?" His throat was so tight suddenly that that single word was a chore to speak. **

"**Yeah…." Dean eyed Sam carefully as he spoke, he would give anything… Everything, not to have to be having this conversation right now…**

**Sam felt a heavy hand so thick with calluses come down onto his shoulder as though it were trying in vain to remove some of the worlds pressures that he suddenly felt resting there encased in that single word and allowed himself to lean back into it only slightly. immediately recognizing it as Bobby's. "Oh…"**

**The wind was robbed from his sails replaced by an angst he himself could not explain, ever since his accident his emotions had become so confusing he could hardly separate one from the next because they often ran together, and contradicted each other all at the same time.**

"**Detective Brady said that they are now handling the investigation as arson…" Bobby whispered reading the anguish in Dean's features and taking the reins. "They believe that the fire was deliberately set."**

**Bobby had never sounded so tender, so fatherly, compassionate… As at that very moment as he felt a small reassuring squeeze against his shoulder and Sam felt himself choking on emotion filled bile. He'd seen the vision, he'd seen it happen, hell, he'd been there when it had… yet there was still something about hearing the words outloud that crippled even the toughest of armor upon impact.**

**Sam knew that his brother and 'uncle' had pushed for a further investigation into the explosion, but honestly he never expected anything to come of it, never expected to hear these words brought to his ears, even after what he had seen only a short time ago … Sure vengeance would be nice, hell he yearned for it in many ways, someone to blame…. Someone to persecute…. Someone to try and convict for his suffering…**

**But he could convince himself his blinded eyes were mastering the art of trickery… **

"**I-I know what arson means thank you…." He finally found his voice again and answered both the thoughts in his head and Bobby's statement all at once.**

"**Sammy… Are you alright?" Dean cleared his throat a little knowing his question could not have been moronic but not knowing what else to say.**

**It took a moment but the youngest nodded forcing his emotions to bury themselves deeper down into his belly, "Yeah …" He smirked a little as though somewhere inside him a switch had been flipped. "I mean it's not like we haven't been murder targets before… This is nothing new right? Occupational hazard?"**

**Not a switch…. A shut off valve. **

"**Well… No it's not, but usually its demons chasing our tails… And usually we escape…."**

"**you didn't think our luck was going to last forever did you?" Sam rose to his feet slowly his fingers stretched out at his side to feel for objects, as Bobby's hand slipped from his shoulder. **

"**Sam."**

**There was that tone again, Sam hated that tone, that father son tone that Dean seemed to carry so often these days as though he kept a never ending supply in his back pocket reserved just for Sam himself. **

"**Where are you going?"**

"**Honestly…" A small chuckle escaped Sam's throat and he whipped his top lip with his forefinger unsurprised to find a few random sweat droplets resting there, "You just informed me that someone tried to bar b cue me… I'm a little heated so I thought I would open the back door maybe let some air in, try a few breathing exercises… Hell if I know…"**

"**why didn't you just ask one of us to get it?…"**

**That simple statement was all it took and before Dean or Bobby could think to react Sam's actions were swift and almost motionless as the dining room table now lay ass up the mugs that had been resting atop it now shattered glass against the ugly linoleum tiling. "Because I can do it my damn self." He snarled and spun on his heals heading the 9 paces to the back door silently thankful for a clear path as he slammed the door behind himself and stepped out on to the porch.**

**He needed air. Lots of air, suddenly the room was to small to house the three of them any longer.**

**Bobby who had side stepped Sam's destructive form and only missed smacking right into him by an inch maybe less now kneeled down and began helping Dean retrieve the larger pieces of glass from the floor.**

"**Well that went well…" Dean whispered**

"**Honestly. I was expecting worse… But it's good to know that kid is still quicker than a gazelle when it comes down to it."**


	7. Part Six 72010

As the screen door slammed behind him Sam exhaled loudly, there was a bird on the telephone wire that stood in the center of Bobby's junk yard, her all to happy song driving like nails through his skull. Removing his glasses he rubbed vigorously at the bridge of his nose, thankful when he felt the side wall of the house against his back. Sliding down it carefully he tilted his head back allowing the bitter wind to bite at his face openly.

Someone had tried to kill him….

The hunter inside him screamed and pounded against his rib cage from somewhere down deep within his soul. Revenge, it was the single emotion that defined what it was to be a Winchester and Sam's body was aching for it.

Someone had stolen his life from him, And all he could think about was returning the favor, yet here he sat helpless and broken… All the thoughts in his head had turned themselves to the same conclusion as his fist shook and he slammed it down into the old wooden planks of the porch creating a hole on impact. No matter how fractured or shattered he was…. It wasn't going to stop him not this time.

Hearing the loud bang from inside the house Bobby and dean both headed outside running to Sam's aide figuring the younger man must have fallen or run into something yet again…. They were wrong. There he sat still and silent rubbing absently at his fist, his features stone cold with a look both older men knew to be that of anger… determination

Dean immediately closed the gap between his brother and himself stepping around the before mentioned new hole and kneeling down putting a hand carefully on his little brother's knee, "Sammy… Talk to me."

"I am going to hunt again." Sam's voice left no room for argument, however that didn't mean Dean wasn't going to try for it anyway.

"Sam, you can't."

"With or without you, I'm going to hunt again." his jaw set his nostrils flaring slightly/

"Absolutely not!" Dean gave the knee under his palm a squeeze.

"I'm not a child Dean, someone tried to kill me and I am going to hunt him down just like every other evil son of a bitch we've buried."

Bobby leaned against the house beside the two boys, "You can't hunt son, it's impossible."

"Nothing is impossible Bobby, we just need to make a few adjustments…. That's all."

"Listen to yourself." Dean let out a heavy and heart broken sigh rubbing his forehead as he studied his baby brothers determined yet still so vulnerable features. "Sam you're blind. You cannot hunt, I won't let you put yourself in danger like that, and that is final. I'm sorry."

Sam growled and threw Dean's hand from his knee his scowl engraving itself deeper reminding Dean of when his little brother was no more than three and he would throw a tantrum in the center of pastor Jim's living room. "Someone tried to kill me Dean."

"I know that, and I know you are angry, there's a fire burning inside you, you can't fight it, and you can't control it… it hurts like hell, I get that, but without your sight you…. You just can't Sammy."

"So what now I just sit here like a damn Nancy and wait for whoever is after me, after us to come and finish the job?"

"Nothing is going to happen to you Sam, not with Bobby and I here."

"You can't be beside me forever Dean."

"Like hell I-"

"SAM I SAID NO AND THAT IS IT… "

"DAMNIT DEAN! STOP! YOU'RE NOT DAD AND YOU CAN'T CONTROL ME IT'S MY LIFE!"

"IT'S SUICIDE!"

"I DON'T CARE, I'M DEAD ALREADY, OR CAN'T YOU SEE THAT?"

Dean drew in a deep breath trying to put his temper in check his voice shaking, "I am not going to lose you… Not when I can prevent it, you-"

Bobby put his hand on Dean's shoulder and stole his attention away a look of contemplation on his face. "Can I speak with you for a minute?"

Sam chuckled bitterly and slowly stood from where he was sitting putting his fingers out slightly and stepping carefully around the two of them. "You both are…Unbelievable, don't bother pretending like I'm not here, this conversation is over anyway… I'll be in my room"

"Sammy-"

"Let him go Dean, he needs to cool off…" Bobby waited for Sam's back to disappear into the house before speaking again, "He has a point you know?"

"C'mon Bobby, don't tell me you are even considering this…. He cannot hunt, I won't allow it. In his condition its suicide and you and I both know that!"

The older man held up his hand and shook his head a little, "Now Dean, just hear me out… I'm not talking about taking the kid back out on the road or anything…. I'm just thinking that maybe teaching him how to defend himself isn't such a bad Idea."

"Bobby. Were not talking a few bumps and bruises if we let him do this! The greatest weapon a hunter possesses Sam is without."

Bobby cleared his throat, "He should at least be able to defend him against those things that he already knows are out there."

"What if he gets hurt?"

"He's a big boy, and besides you and I will be there every step of the way…. He needs this Dean, I can see it in his face and so can you."

Dean looked defeated as he popped his neck. He knew that Bobby had a point, but how the hell was he supposed to subject his brother to something that could easily take his life with one accidental slip up.

"Just give the kid a chance, he might surprise you…"

"One week." He growled. "But I hope to god you know what you are getting all of us into… This could easily be just setting him up for another huge disappointment."

Bobby nodded and turned to head back into the house his mind already whirling with scenarios of the way the next seven days could play out.

_. . . . . . . . _

Sam stood in the center of Bobby's living room the following morning, sweat glistening as it slid down his naked torso, his jeans sticking to his inner thighs. a plastic sword tight in his grasp as he listened intensely trying to hear his older brother's feet approaching. He'd whined and complained for forty five minutes about using a 'piece of shit Jack Sparrow hand me down' plastic toy, but at least he was making headway, at least he felt less like a child… Which was ironic considering what the current situation must look like to an outside eye.

Quicker than a panther hunting its dinner after a long bitter winter, Dean sprang from the left and was behind his brother his left arm cutting off the younger mans oxygen supply, the right twisting the sword from his grasp. "Listen Sammy…. Listen for my breathing, my footsteps, anything that might tip you off to my approach." he instructed quietly.

"I'm trying." Sam shook himself out of Dean's grasp pretty easily thankful that even in his weaker state he still seemed to posses some strength.

"you're going to have to work harder, I know it's rough but you can do this." Even though he himself was skeptical Dean was thankful his voice at least sounded confident.

"Focus." Bobby called out from where he stood sipping a coffee cup filled with jack in the kitchen, "Use what you remember to your advantage. "

A look of determination grew like a shadow across his features as Sam nodded wiping the sweat from his brow. "again."

Resuming position Dean gave Bobby an uncertain gaze, his calves were aching, his arms tired so he could only imagine how Sam was feeling. "Now listen… carefully…. Concentrate"

This time as he approached Dean purposely used a heavy foot with only centimeters to go, a move that some might consider cheating, but at this point that didn't matter. Like a bolt of lightning his little brothers hand flew out grabbing him by the forearm and pulling him close so that their bodies were touching chest to back, thrusting the plastic sword into his shirt with unforgiving force.

"Good." Dean chuckled with a wince as he took his brothers wrist and moved it over just an inch and a half maybe two to the left, it was a minor detail, but still should the situation ever come up it was a deadly mistake if made. "Hearts here though"

Sam nodded and released his brother's form. "again"

"Sammy… I'm exhausted." The older brothers voice was practically a whine as he plopped down on the couch.

"getting' weaker at your old age Dean?"

"Haha, very funny. I'm serious man, even dad didn't work us this hard."

"I had a lot less to prove when I was nine Dean…"

"But still, this isn't going to happen in a day" Dean caught sight of Bobby who'd remained silent as a church mouse and was now standing only a foot away from Sam with an unloaded pistol pointed directly at the youngest boys chest, reaching out her took Sam's hand and placed it on the gun's tip. "Yer Dead boy."

Sammy fingered the pistol and grunted, "I wasn't ready."

"When are we ever ready for some evil shadow lurking bastard to spring?" Dean asked rising to his feet and heading over to where the other two men stood.

"That's not fair Dean…"

"Hunting isn't a fair sport."

"You're a jerk"

"Yeah and yer a bitch." Dean's face contorted into a shocked expression as Sam spun around and grabbed hold of him yet again this time pinning his wrists behind his back and using his legs to knock them both to the ground.

"If all else fails, trap them with banter." He quipped victoriously, "Your smart ass taught me that." he smirked down at his brother now pinned beneath him.

"So you do listen."

"When it matters."

Bobby chuckled to himself rolling his eyes. "If only your daddy could see you boys now."

"So that's Twice you've nailed me in the last four hours? That makes your percentage like what point zero zero two?"

"You boys are boring me. Let's try something else now…" Bobby walked over to his china cabinet, where most people kept their nice dishes, most people who were not Robert Singer that is, and fished out one of his older more antique .45's.

Setting it down on the table, ignoring the look of horror in Dean's eyes, he led Sam over by the shoulder and set him down in front of it. "Apart and then back together again." He stated simply.

"Bobby-"

"Shut up Dean." The seasoned hunter stood behind Sam's chair watching intensely for any detrimental mistakes that might be made. His voice was serious as he spoke, "become reacquainted with it first, feel it in your grasp, this isn't a timed test Sam, just hold it, picture it"

Sam nodded, he would never admit it, but the way he saw it a gun was like the body of a beautiful woman, it needed to be handled with the utmost care, caressed, quick and delicately.

Sliding his fingers over the tip of the barrel and down the chasse, he imagined a woman's long smooth, sun kissed stems beneath his touch. long and inviting, thriving under the tender brush of his fingertips.

He felt home again.

Calmed by her presence.

Reaching the trigger his fingers danced so lightly over it that they barely felt the cool metal beneath them and a chill ran down Sam's spine reaching his toes as he imagined the opening of a woman, the most powerful and tender part demanding his attention, waiting to be squeezed and released by the touch only he could provide. His heart jumped in his chest and it was at that moment, with the small sliver of metal against his flesh that he felt more alive than he had since that day far to long ago.

Then down the backside, rougher than the front sure, but just as delicate none the less, firm and tight against his palm this is where he gripped and held tight to both his woman and his gun. Strength coursed through his veins and he let out a breath he did not realize he'd been holding in.

Dean stared on in amazement and even admiration, the serenity in Sam's features was… refreshing for lack of a better word, as he watched how nimble and sly his brother's hands were, remembering almost instantly every nook and cranny of the gun which they held.

It felt eerily like old times as he watched the gun being dismantled and laid out across the old wooden table. He'd never tell anyone but Sam had always been the quicker one when it came to the mechanics of gun handling.

"Good…. Very good, now put it together again, nice and easy…." Bobby's voice was a near silent whisper penetrating his almost erotic thoughts.

Sam's head tilted back as he listened to the clanking of the metal, each piece reconnecting perfectly with it's mate. Satisfaction welling up inside him he allowed a small smile to pull at the corners of his lips. Just like riding a bike soon enough he held the reassembled piece out before him and cocked it in triumph. "bang"

"Impressive." Dean nodded honestly, he really was impressed, and relieved to know that Sammy had not forgotten all of his past life skills.

"Do it again." Bobby instructed, "This time I'm timing you…" he looked at his watch, he was pretty sure Sam would be fast enough, but hey, you could never be to cautious.

. . . . . . .

It was day three in their week long crusade to teach Sam to become even a shadow of the hunter he'd once been, the second having been almost an exact replica of the first. They now stood in the empty field, not to far from Bobby's place, that the boys had played in as children., nothing but Deserted land surrounding them for at least a quarter mile in every direction.

After lining up the last of some old bottles and cans he'd managed to scrounge up, probably from his own stash out behind the house, Dean stood behind his anxious brother. "Aim a hair more to the left, it's only rock salt, so remember it can't kill any of us, but if you shoot Bobby, he's likely to come after you as if you had."

"Damn right kid." Bobby could be heard off in the distance in front of the two of them.

"Okay" Sam nodded.

"I know it's been a while since you've fired one of these ladies, but just grip tight and squeeze hard."

"I know…"

"It's gonna be really loud."

"Dude, I know I'm not an idiot!"

"I'm just sayin!"

"Well don't" Sam's form rocked slightly as he fired out into the open air, salt pellets scattering and creating a sick man's symphony as they smacked mercilessly into the bottles and cans before him.

"Four." Bobby called out a few seconds later as Dean pressed a new clip into his brother's palm, "reload and shot again, you still got a dozen or so standing, this time aim higher and angle out a little more to the right…." He reached out to readjust the gun

sensing his brother's motion Sam smacked it away defiantly. "I got it!"

"Alright… Alright… just Listen for Bobby to tip you off and fire."

"This is kind of stupid you know" Sam called out into the open air for both men to hear, "I mean cans are not exactly moving targets."

"Well, what would you like me to do? Raise the dead so you can kill them again? Or hey I know why don't I create a tulpa!" His words were thick with sarcasm.

"You could always go stand out there." Sam shot back,

"Yer funny." Dean scoffed.

"I'm serious though, I mean this isn't exactly relevant to… Anything, what are the chances we are going to be attacked by a six pack in the middle of the night?"

"Well…. In our line of work…."

"Dean!"

"What Sammy? it's the best we can do for now so stop bitching like a girl and fire the damn gun would you?"

His shoulders hunching slightly Sam reloaded and waited for bobby's whistle before firing again this time adjusting his body and gun as instructed.

"Good…" Dean watched as the middle can exploded with intense force sending metal shards crackling through the air like a forth of July firework

"Yeah?"

"Mhm." Dean nodded before taking the gun from his brother and patting his back announcing, "Beer break" loud enough for bobby to hear.

placing Sam's hand on his shoulder he led the way back to the truck, "The sun's just beginning to set now Sammy, I think we're done with this exercise for the day, I mean we can't exactly fire salt rounds off into the night"

Sam drew his lip into his mouth, "So Dean uh… About the other day, on the porch, I shouldn't have went off like that."

"You were upset."

"That's not an excuse, there's just- Never mind" Sam shook his head popping open his beer and taking a drink,

"That is definitely not a never mind face." Dean pressed as he helped Sam to sit on the trucks tailgate studying his uneasy expression.

"Really. It's not important…"

" talk."

"You might not like what I have to say."

"That hasn't stopped you before Sammy."

"Do you know what I miss most about my eyes?"

"Breasts" Dean joked tossing Bobby a beer as he came to lean against the truck bed on Sam's other side.

"No man, it's you.."

"Sam, I haven't gone anywhere….."

"maybe not physically, but you have, you treat me like I'm a child. I mean you were always a little overbearing sure, but now you- you watch what you say around me, you hold your tongue and you lie, everything you do these days is some feeble attempt to shield me from one thing or another, Myself or… The impala… The arson…. All of it down to holes in the damn side walk man, you spend so much time worrying about me that you've forgotten everything else, including who you are." He exhaled shifting his body toward the spot where he knew his brother was standing.

"It's as though you feel I can't handle reality anymore, and to be honest it's exhausting to have to keep piecing crap together all because you don't think I can deal with the whole puzzle.…

I'm still me, I'm still your brother no matter what, you don't have to carry all the weight of the world on your shoulders, not alone, and you sure as hell don't have to stop being yourself for fear you might offend me, I lost my eyes, I didn't go brain dead."

"Sammy I just-"

"Let me finish." Sam cleared his throat a little, he knew that this words were stinging his brother but he couldn't hold them back any longer, Dean needed to know exactly how he'd been feeling all this time. "I know that you want to keep me safe, that you want to protect me from the evil that's beyond Bobby's front door, but you are going to have to let me figure some things out on my own, it's the only way I will ever be able to move on… I know what is out there, and I'm well- I'm scared as hell of most of it, but that doesn't mean I can spend my life hiding from it.

It's been almost a year man, and no matter how hard I try to convince myself otherwise, I know the truth, I know that my eyes are not going to get better, it's like you've said, my condition is permanent. It's a part of me now and at the end of the day I am the one who is left to deal with it. You can't save me, not this time."

Dean nodded before realizing it was useless and giving a small yeah in acknowledgement, he was glad the sun had set so that Bobby could not see the tears behind his eyes.

"You want what is best for me, I get it…but I'm asking you…. Begging you, please… Let go Dean, just a little, I'm suffocating and I can't breathe " even though they could not see, Sam's eyes still nailed the puppy dog expression perfectly as he played with the tab on his beer can, "this has been a hell of a journey for me, for all of us, and I will never be able to thank you or Bobby enough for what you've done… for what you've given up for me… "

"But.." There was always a but when it came to Sam.

"But if I need your help I'll ask for it. I'm still a man Dean and you have to realize that."

It was bobby's turn to nod now in agreement, he had been trying to tell Dean this for so long, but maybe it took the right person for him to finally understand, Sam's want to hunt wasn't just vengeance, it was rooted much deeper than that, he needed it, he needed himself back, even a small piece, he needed to know he could do it, even if he never had to.

Sam's words struck Dean, he knew his little brother was right, he was not a child anymore, but still every instinct, both as a hunter and an older brother screamed inside him to protect his Sammy and he didn't know how to turn something like that off.

"Okay Sammy, I'll try." He smiled a little, "But there is something you have to remember as well."

"What's that?" Sam's brow cocked in question.

"You're my little brother." he gave his knee a pat and drew in a small breath as Sam grabbed his arm and slid him into a hug weather he wanted it or not.

Hugging was not Dean's style, but it didn't mean he didn't need one once in a while.

Dean felt his brother's arm strong around him and held tightly to his form, he'd become more at ease with the whole personal contact thing, Sam needed to touch something to know it was there, and after almost losing him, Dean needed to touch Sam to make sure he was still there as well.

Bobby thought about lightening the mood with banter but took a long drink from his beer instead, the notion seeming more than inappropriate. Setting down his now empty can he added a simple, "By the way you're welcome" as he fished his keys from his pocket.

. . . . . . . .

Rounding the corner into his salvage yard Bobby inhaled sharply instinctively reaching for his gun he kept tucked safely inside his flannel as Dean reached for the spare piece under the seat, the two of them sharing a very familiar there's trouble glance.

Sensing the tension on instinct Sam's jaw tightened feeling both men shift in unison. "What is it?"

"the gates open." Bobby whispered stalling the engine and flipping off this headlights, he always made sure the salvage yard was locked up tighter than a drum even if he was only going out for a gallon of milk.

"Dean stay with your brother." His tone was demanding like the one his father use to carry and without argument Dean nodded climbing from the truck and taking a fighting stance holding the .45 out in front of him.

Helping his brother out as well his voice was hardly audible as he spoke, "crouch down right here and don't move unless you need to you hear me."

It was Sam's turn to nod now that same useless feeling creeping inside his gut as he felt his brother's body so close to him the heat from it was warm on his face,

Dean kept his eyes moving from one side to the other all the while also keeping close watch on his "uncle" as he made his way up the walk slinking like a snake into the front door, which much to both older men's dismay was also ajar.

The silence in the air was eerie and cold as the two boys waited for something, anything to happen that might tip them off to what the hell they were waiting for.

It had felt like at least twenty, but in reality was no more than a minute that had passed when Dean heard a rustle in the back end of the junk yard and frowned to himself, "Stay here." He grunted handing the gun off to Sam and fishing out his own from his bag in the truck.

His feet hardly even touched the ground as he crept down the gravel road. The rattle of the back fence sounded into the still air and instantly his creeping turned into a full sprint.

Sam held the gun out in front of himself a sick sense of comfortable familiarity over taking his body and mind as fear gripped him deep inside and adrenaline coursed through his veins matching the thumping of his elevated heartbeat.

Dean was quick screaming for Bobby as he ran past the house, his lungs burning, he made a mental note that he definitely needed to get his own ass back into shape almost as much as Sammy's.

Straddling the high fence that surrounded the yard he saw the dark figure growing farther and farther into the distance, "Damnit!" he cursed as he fired three rounds, but still it ran never even slowing down. "son of a bitch!" He knew he hadn't hit it.

Sweat flew down his face bathing his features as he jumped off the fence and double over drawing in a few deep much needed breaths. "What the hell was that?" He asked to no one in particular even though bobby was now approaching.

"The house is a wreck and the damn front door is busted." The older man informed as if it was no more than a weather report, it wasn't like he hadn't played clean up crew before. "A little outta shape there kid?"

"Maybe a little", Dean's gut twisted and he exhaled the two of them already making their way quickly back to where Sam was still crouched beside the truck.

"Sam." Bobby called out in warning as they came within earshot.

The alert exhunter rose to his feet instinctively tucking the gun into the back of his jeans. "I'm good" He called back making his way around the front of the truck until his brothers hand stopped him. "What was it?"

"Not what." Bobby shook his head and cleared his throat still holding his gun at his side not quite ready to put it away just yet. "Who."

. . . . . .

"Did they take anything?" Dean asked stepping inside the house and looking around before turning his attention to his brother, "Look. I know you're all about your independence, but the house is thrashed I'm gonna have to help you"

"don't be a smart ass." Sam winced a little feeling a familiar pressure arising behind his eyeballs as he tilted his head back and rubbed at them with his palms trying to force it away..

Kneeling down Bobby began clearing a path and shook his head, "Not that I can tell-"

"Dean…. God" Sam gasped cutting off Bobby's words the pain becoming to unbearable as he reached out and grabbed tight to Dean's shirt in front of him his legs weakening.

"Sammy!" Dean swirled around grabbing hold of the obviously pained man and lowered them both to the ground moving a few things out of the way with his foot as he did so.

_. . . . . . _

_A familiar dark shadow appears in the door way…._

_Steps inside and causes Sam's entire body to shiver repeatedly. _

_He has no face, but he doesn't need one, Sam feels his presence and immediately knows who he is._

_His foot steps are heavy, his motions deliberate. _

_He is looking for something._

_No. Someone._

_And he will not stop until they are found. _

_Vengeance and terror radiate so strongly from his form that it is clear he has only a single intention. _

_Sam can almost smell the death in the air._

_And then he is gone._

_. . . . . ._

"Sam?" Dean's worried voice fills his ears once again.

"He didn't take anything, but he's not finished here yet either. " Sam's words sound almost groggy as he comes back around into reality

"What did you see?"

"Him"

"Him who?" Dean sounded clueless.

Bobby's expression fell and he growled low in his throat, he was not so clueless, as he helped Sam to a now open spot on the sofa carefully maneuvering them both.

"What are you talking about?" Dean questioned again moving about helping Bobby to pick up the clutter.

"He was looking for me." Sam inhaled leaning back further into the couch. He would never get use to the pounding headache that came after his visions.

"Are you trying to tell me that that was…"

Sam nodded.

"How can you be sure?."

"I'm positive."

"But you said you couldn't make out any specific features about…."

"Give me a little credit here! Why the hell else would I have a vision the minute we stepped in the door? I could feel it, I could feel him, and he's evil dean, so evil he makes my skin crawl."

"Sam, there are lots of evil things out there."

"My visions returning after all this time? Right after I lose my sight? Its all connected somehow, it has to be there is no other possible explanation!"

"There are plenty!"

"Name one."

"How about coincidence?"

"dean."

"Gimmie a minute and I'll think of something better!"

"Your brother's right." Bobby tucked another book away before diverting his attention, "Which means we gotta get you boys outta here tonight, because whoever this is they know you are here and like he said, they will be back. Whatever he saw, connected or not, it ain't good if he's going all Miss Cleo over it."

"Where the hell are we supposed to go Bobby, I don't know if you've noticed, but you are about all Sammy and I have…."

"I know a place." Bobby was already taking out his cell dialing a familiar number and listening to it ring, he would do anything to protect his family and these boys were all the family he had left. He was going to kill this evil son of a bitch… After he knew Sam and Dean were safe again.

"_Harvelle's Roadhouse" _

"_Hey Ellen, it's Bobby…. We need your help"_


	8. Part Seven 72310

Since receiving a call from Bobby, Ellen and Jo had been preparing for the arrival of their soon to be guests. They didn't have much but with hunters passing in and out all the time, the Winchesters would be far safer here than anywhere else… Or so those involved seemed to believe.

"Did Bobby tell you how long they would be staying?" Jo asked as she helped her mother push one of the tables a little more to the right, truth be told safety aside… a small broken down Saloon was not the best place to be bringing a blind man, but they would do the best with what they had, and the rest would have no choice but to fall into place.

"Until Bobby catches whoever or… whatever is after them I'm guessing." Ellen shrugged a little, "Doesn't really matter, they're family give or take a few drops of blood and that means that we do as much as we can for them."

"Poor Sam though, I mean he's blind. How do we you know, act around him? How do we help him?"

Ellen offered her young daughter a half smile heading for the front door just as she heard Bobby's old rickety truck coming up the dirt road, "He's still the same Sam he's always been Jo, and that's how you have to treat him."

Climbing out of the truck Sam's limbs were as stiff as popsicle sticks as he stretched and rolled his neck from one side to the other, "Hey Bobby? Next time you want to take us on a six and a half hour joy ride can you try to find something in that old junk heap of yours with a little more leg room?"

"Well Excuse me princess, but it's not exactly like we had the luxury of car shopping before getting you boys out of town!" He griped while pulling a few of the duffel bags out of the back of the truck and setting them down, "Ungrateful idgets"

Dean snickered before taking a hold of Sam's elbow watching as the taller man adjusted his sunglasses for the fifth time in the last five minutes. "Sammy, it's alright."

"I just you know, don't want them to feel uncomfortable."

"Dude, this is Jo and Ellen we are talking about here, they run the local hang out for drunks and derelicts, they've seen things a lot freakier than you come stumbling in and that's without including the spooks and demons."

"Last I checked the only derelict I let in my bar carried the last name Winchester." Ellen joked as she descended the steps of the Roadhouse heading to meet the three men. She felt her breath hitch in her throat as her eyes fell on Sam her heart breaking slightly in her chest.

The Sam she remembered was not the one who stepped toward her now she would hardly recognize him if it weren't for Dean pasted faithfully at his side. He'd lost a good twenty pounds since she'd last seen him, he appeared so vulnerable and withdrawn that it nearly brought tears to her eyes, all that remained of her once vibrant and lively friend was a fractured shadow.

As she finally reached them standing face to face she swallowed down her concerns and caressed Sam's forearm lightly, "Well, hey there handsome." She made sure to keep her voice cheerful and light as she spoke.

"Hey Ellen" Sam smiled softly and shook Dean's hand off before reaching out to hug her welcomingly already handing out unneeded apologies, "Listen, we're um really sorry about all this…."

"Don't be ridiculous Sam, there is absolutely nothing for you to be sorry for," As she said this however she looked to Dean, her eyes shooting daggers into him, Daggers that read, _I'll get to you later and you have plenty to be sorry for. _

Dean shivered and shook his head choosing to play dumb for the moment and pretend he didn't notice Ellen was trying to murder him with her eyes, "So uh, are you sure you have the room for us? I mean-"

"Ashes room has been freed up for months" She declared cutting him off, "Some eighties Madonna clone walked in here one day, stole his heart and he ain't been back since, we get a post card every now and again he's somewhere off the coast of Cuba living it up only the way Ash can."

"So mullet man found a bride huh?" Dean chuckled to himself shaking his head turning to his brother and regripping his arm, "See Sammy there is hope for you yet."

"Hilarious." Sam Exhaled, "So where's Jo?"

"she's inside." Ellen nodded toward the house before falling back a bit letting Sam and Dean take the lead as she came to stand next to Bobby… "He's alright isn't he?" She asked keeping her voice below normal she couldn't seem to tear her eyes away from the two figures in front of her.

"Depends on your definition of ok I s'pose." Bobby adjusted his baseball cap and shook his head, "Every days a new struggle and sometimes it seems the odds are so stacked against him that there is no way he can pull himself out." He smiles in her direction, "But let me tell you, that kids a fighter if I ever saw one."

"What are the doctor's saying?"

Bobby's face fell a little now as he leaned against the hood of the truck and put down the bags rubbing his stubble decorated chin the boys having long since disappeared inside. "The damage is irreversible, his condition it permanent and the best his family can do for him now is help him adjust…. Help him to learn to live without his sight."

"Oh man." Ellen looked to her longtime friend, "And what does Sam say about that?"

"You know these boys, they are a lot like their father… Neither one is giving up hope, but as time rolls on…. I think the realization is finally smacking right into him… Into both of them."

"And you said, this was a person? That someone planted a bomb in the impala?"

Bobby nodded crossing his arms over his chest, "Yeah, If it were a demon I think it would be easier for everyone involved…But the detective is sure and well… Sam's visions don't lie"

"Any ideas on who?"

"Not a clue in hell… But I intend to find out and when I do it will be handled, make no mistake about that. These boys have enough to deal with inside themselves, they don't need extra troubles knocking at their door… Not right now."

"you're gonna handle this on your own?"

"What choice do I have, it's not exactly like I can call up my old hunting buddies, the few that are left anyway, and tell them to come down to south Dakota to help me hunt down a damn human."

"You could always let the police handle this one you know?"

"Not if it's connected the way we think it might be to the other side, with the visions and all… Sam is sure human or not something about this whole thing is dark side."

"Do you think it could just be his hopes and not facts that he is basing this off of?" Ellen couldn't help but question. "I mean I may not know him as well as you but I'd bet he's looking for something…. Anything to rip into right about now."

"Could be, but that's not a chance I'm willing to take," The tired mans lips curled into a smile, "You know, he's been training to hunt again… Doesn't want to feel helpless anymore. And I gotta tell you the little snots still pretty damn good all things considered."

"I'm not surprised," Ellen scoffed a little, "He's his father's son." she eyed Bobby her brow cocking slightly, "Speaking of, how about Dean…. I mean is he alright."

Bobby didn't answer this time as he gave the shorter woman a gentle pat on the shoulder and exhaled loudly before leaning down to pick up the bags again. Dean was another story for another time, one that Bobby himself wasn't sure he had all the pages to just yet, and he'd been living with the kid for months. It pained him when he thought about Dean, the suffering in his eyes and the anger in his heart, it was so overpowering and so deep that it was unexplainable. The only thing the seasoned hunter knew for sure was, life had not been kind to John Winchester's sons and that was putting it mildly.

. . . . . .

Stepping inside the front door to the Roadhouse Dean kept a tight hold on his brother's arm speaking into his ear, "Careful, remember that there is a lip here, the minute you forget you're gonna go head first back down the porch steps."

Sam nodded. "Got it, little lip big pain in the ass…. Or the head depending on which end lands down."

Jo who'd been standing on the far end of the bar silent until now snickered quietly giving herself away.

"We were beginning to wonder if you'd skipped out the back on us." Dean called in her direction with a grin before turning back to Sam, "You've got s couple of tables here so…"

"I can move those." she offered pushing herself off the bar and stepping toward them

"It's fine Jo," Sam smiled gently, the same smile she remembered, just a little worn around the edges.

"Yeah, Sam's on this whole independence kick so if he refuses your help don't take offense or anything, he's just decided that with or without his eyes he can take on the world."

"shut up Dean." Finally feeling the bar top brush against his fingers Sam gripped hold and pulled himself away from Dean shifting his head up slightly welcoming the familiar scent of day old whiskey and dirt that filled his nostrils. So many memories from his old life filling his sense that it was nearly overwhelming.

Jo nodded, "Al-alright then." She looked Sam up and down a few times trying to grasp her head around the man who stood before her, who he was now compared, who he used to be….

To Jo Harvelle Sam and Dean Winchester were icons, they incased everything she wished she could be, they were strong and fearless, they lived by their own rules, kickin ass and taken names with no one to answer to but themselves. They were….. Heroes.

And her hero had fallen.

What remained of him placed out before her like a scratched and burned up old photo, most of it withered away except for the faintest image of what used to be laying below a tarnished surface. An image she had to fight to recognize. She knew her thoughts and feelings were selfish, that they would be impossible for anyone who did not live inside her skin to understand and she tried to push them away, but it wasn't exactly like she could control them.

Dean frowned softly in her direction seeing the question and uncertainty in her gaze as she drew her lip into her mouth hesitantly. "It's good to see you Jo," He stepped forward and embraced her whispering in her ear as he did so, "He's okay…. Really."

She nodded against his shoulder before pulling back, "You too… Both of you…."

Sam heart sank a little further into his stomach having heard the exchanged whisper and the discomfort in the younger woman's words, but he refused to let his smile falter. "So ummm. What does a guy have to do to get a beer around here? It's still a bar isn't it?" He attempted to lighten the mood knocking on the bar top.

Jo chuckled. "Yeah, it's still a bar, let me see what I can scrounge up." Stepping back behind the bar she fished out three PBRS and popped their tops before handing them out.

"Thanks." Sam fingers brushed against hers momentarily as he searched for her hand and took hold of the beer.

"So um, I managed to clean up Ashes old pad pretty well, but the patchouli smell is forever embedded in the walls if you ask me."

"That's alright, at this point we are thankful for anything you got."

"well would you look at that…." Ellen quipped as she and Bobby finally made it into the Roadhouse and she came to stand directly behind Sam resting her hands on his shoulders, "Haven't even been here an hour and already drinkin' my beer."

"even ex hunters can't refuse a cold one Ellen, you should know that by now." Dean rose to his feet and took a few of the bags Bobby was still struggling to hold on to leading the way into the back toward where they would be staying.

After plopping the bags down on one of the beds, Bobby's brows furrowed together as he took notice of the tension radiating off of Dean's features. "You alright?"

"I just, I don't know if this is such a good idea Bobby, putting Ellen and Jo in danger like this…. Not to mention the way Jo keeps looking at Sam like he's an injured yet rabid dog whose going to bite and infect her at any minute. "

"What do you expect from her Dean? She's young, you and sam you come in here all bruised up and broken and it's a slap in the face to someone like her"

"Someone like her?"

"To a dabbling bystander like Jo, you and Sam might as well be batman and Robin. You're invincible."

"Regardless, she doesn't have to look at him like that."

Bobby stepped around Dean and resisted the urge to knock him in the back of his head. "I've got bigger fish to gut than trying to figure out a twenty something year old girls emotional stability." He grinned brightly. "You stay here and figure that one out, I'll take on the figure in the shadows."

"But Bobby-"

"Quit yer whining' you sound like a snot nosed brat." He stepped back into the main bar, "So I guess this is it then…" He looked from Dean to Sam and back again pushing aside the tightening in his chest, he didn't want to be leaving them here, he wanted them with him where they could watch his back and more importantly he could watch there's.

"Bobby…" Sam Rose to his feet and spun around holding his hand out a little.

Every part of him, even those he'd thought to be long since dead ached as Bobby stepped closer and took Sam's hand in his own. "You be careful…. Those pot holes seem to jump out in front of you these days kiddo." His voice quivered slightly and he exhaled, "I- uh…"

"We'll see you soon Bobby."

"Yeah yeah you will." Bobby Squeezed the hand in his own before pulling the younger yet substantially larger man into a hug gripping him tight and holding him close.. He never understood what it meant to have a family, to truly be a part of something until almost a year ago when he vowed to protect the two broken figures that showed up shattered on his door step with nowhere else to go and no one else to turn to.

Now as he prepared to head back home and leave them behind his stomach was twisted in knots, his eyes wet with moisture and his heart was torn in two. He knew that Dean was more than capable of caring for Sam and even that Sam could care for himself, but still he felt empty… He needed them.

Dean walked with Bobby outside and stood beside the rolled down window as he climbed into the truck and closed the door, "You know, I still think I should be going with you." He quipped looking the older man in the eyes.

"If you asked Sam he feels the same way, but your place is here with your brother, we have to cover all our bases and you know that. If this guy comes back, you need to be here, you have to protect Sam."

"Hm, now you sound strangely like someone else I knew."

"it's a big weight on your shoulders and I know that, but your daddy wasn't all hot air… He trusted you and so do I"

"If something happens, you call me."

"Same goes for you, keep them eyes to the skies and your ear to the ground."

"Hey Bobby?"

"Yeah kid?"

"Thanks."

Adjusting his hat the now emotion stricken man nodded, fearing he couldn't hold back much longer he put the car in gear and peeled out watching in his rearview mirror as Dean, the roadhouse and his heart grew smaller and smaller before disappearing completely.

. . . . . .

Dean's cheek stung as Ellen back handed him hard across the face her finger digging into his chest. "Boy I could knock you into next Tuesday!"

"What the hell for?" Dean snapped back rubbing at his scruff and scowling.

"Next time something like this happens you pick up your damn phone and you call me! Is it to much to ask for a little piece of mind? We thought you boys were dead and then all the sudden damn near a year later we finally hear from you again?"

"Sam wanted it that way!" Dean retorted weakly.

"I don't care what Sam wanted, you don't just let your loved ones think you are dead you hear me? None of us who have chosen this line of work got much left, but that just means we hold tighter to what we do!"

"Alright." Dean offered her a sympathetic smile, "Look at it this way though, now Sammy and I are gonna be around so much that you and Jo will be sick of us in no time."

"We could use the extra help…" Ellen exhaled and frowned a little looking him over, he'd aged ten years since the last time she laid eyes on him, his skin was nearly as pale as Sam's, his hair was longer, he needed a hell of a shave and his off collar jokes didn't hide his painful interior nearly as well as they use to. "And honestly, you look as though you could use the rest, with Jo and I here you can let up on the Sam duties and maybe take a little time for yourself."

"I'm fine."

"He's safe here Dean, maybe this isn't all bad, you boys having to come here, I mean we get hunters and the public alike in here on a daily basis and maybe this is just the right spot for him to begin blending in like he should."

Dean nodded rubbing the bridge of his nose tiredly, Sam had settled in hours ago, claiming jet lag, but Dean knew he just needed a few hours to himself to sort through the events of the last few days and was willing to give it to him as long as he remained within ear shot of his little brother Sammy could have all the space he needed.

Jo on the other hand was wiping down the last of the tables in the main bar, led Zeppelin's When the Levee Breaks providing the eerily perfect soundtrack for the evening as she hummed along to it. She'd made it almost mid chorus when a gruff voice interrupted her.

"Dean?"

She turned to see Sam leaning in the hall entry way wearing nothing more than his grey sweatpants and sunglasses his head tilted down as though he were studying the floor.

"Dean?" he tried again

Jo drew her lip into her mouth and took a step forward taking the towel she had been using to wipe the tables and resting it over her shoulder. Seeing as how she was a female, it was nearly impossible for her not to notice the perfectly chiseled abdomen of the man in front of her, his biceps bulging slightly as he held on to the wall. He may have let him self go a bit since his last visit but he was still very easy on the eyes especially compared to most of the slobs she was forced to look at on a daily basis. "He's Uh, he's in the kitchen with mom." She finally managed, "I can go get him if you want"

"No, that's uh, that's alright, if he's busy…" His voice lowered a little, "Well isn't this embarrassing."

"What was that?" She took a few more steps in his direction,

"I just. I gotta take a leak and I tried to find it myself but I wound up in what I'm guessing to be the storage closet."

Jo couldn't help but let a small laugh escape her, "That's alright, happens to me all the time in this place.." She now stood directly in front of him, and reached for his arm, "It's like a mystery house, I swear the rooms move around on their own almost weekly. I'll show you."

"Thanks." Sam waited until they were moving before speaking again, "Jo listen I uh…. I want to apologize."

"For what?"

"I just I know that…. This is uncomfortable for you and I'm sorry."

"Sam." She glanced over at him, "I am the one who should be apologizing to you if anything…." she let the words die off on her lips and took his hand placing it on the door knob, "Here we are. Third door on the left side, or as you're more likely to remember it, the door after the storage closet"

"Thanks" he repeated before smiling to himself and turning his head a little more in her direction, "Hey Jo wait!"

"Hm?"

"Where is the light switch?"

"It's right inside the door on th-" She stopped and took the towel she had slung over her shoulder pelting it at the now laughing figure, "Shut up Sam"

Rounding the corner still shaking her head Jo nearly ran face first into Dean taking notice of the panic in his eyes and frowning. "You alright Dean?"

"I-I thought I heard Sam calling for me…" He craned his neck to look around and past her.

"Oh, you did, but I handled it."

"Is he alright? Did he run into something… did he fall?"

"He's fine Dean" Jo side stepped the taller man and headed toward the jukebox to make another selection. "He just forgot where the bathroom was is all." She pressed down on Ozzy Osbournes Road to Nowhere, "It was a minor crisis, take a deep breath"

"Oh…" Dean visibly relaxed running his hand through his hair and sliding onto one of the barstools.

"you know, Sam's a grown man Dean, he can take care of himself."

"So he keeps telling me."

"well." Jo came up beside him reaching over the bar and retrieving a bottle of Jamison setting it down in front of Dean and then sitting herself. "Maybe it's time you listen."

. . . . . .

The next morning Sam awoke and shifted his head to listen, at first expecting to hear Rumsfield bouncing around his bed, but then remembering they were no longer at Bobby's he yawned and rose to his feet. Feeling around the foot of his bed he found his shirt from the evening before and slid it on doing the same with his jeans and then his glasses, he had no idea what time it was, he couldn't hear any customers outside his door so he knew it had to be before noon, other than that though god only knew,

"Well good morning sunshine." Ellen was the first to greet him as he finally made his way around the corner and into the main room.

"Morning."

She put down the case of tequila she had just fished out from down stairs and wiped off her palms on her jeans going over to meet him taking notice of the fact that he looked almost disoriented as he drew his bottom lip into his mouth chewing on it, standing frozen and uncertain in the door way. "You alright sweetie?"

"Yeah…. Just." Sam's shoulders shrugged a little.

"_Lost." She finished for him before reaching out and taking hold of his arm, "I can imagine how frustrating this must be for you, you were just getting the hang at Bobby's and now you've been plopped down in the center of this place."_

_He chuckles a little and places his hand over hers, Ellen had always been someone Sam had an instant connection with, never really having a mother of his own… He felt at ease and warm when she was near by, She wasn't his mother by any means, but being a mother herself, she gave off that vibe naturally he supposed. "It's quiet, what time is it?"_

"_About nine" She glanced to the clock on the far wall, "there's some coffee in the kitchen. That'll be our first stop on the Ellen express." She led them toward the small kitchen slowly allowing Sam to count their steps as they went, keeping in perfect unison with him._

"_Nine? Where's Dean? I thought he'd be zonked out until at least eleven."_

"_He and Jo ran into town to place an order…" _

"_Oh? Well at least she is getting him out of the house." Sam's sock covered toes came into contact with a chair leg and he reached out feeling for it's back before sliding into it as he spoke._

_Ellen smiled a little as she set a cup of coffee down for him, "It's that bad huh?"_

_Sam shrugged, "I talked to him about it, but I don't know how much good it did really, Dean's got a head of wood."_

"_He's just worried about you, that's all."_

"_There's a fine line between worrying and obsessive hovering."_

_Ellen frowned a little and took a seat beside him holding her own refilled coffee mug. "Sam, have you thought about long term here? I mean… Seriously thought about what you want to do when the smoke clears? Bobby told me you were training to hunt again, but-"_

"_It's pointless." He cut her off. "I already know that."_

"_Not pointless." She searched for the right word rubbing her finger in a circle around the rim of her cup. "Just not practical."_

"_I'll never be able to be a hunter again, not fully anyway and I know that too. The only reason I pushed to learn again was more for Dean than myself anyway, there's a vengeance inside me sure, but he needs to realize that I can defend myself enough-" His body shifted a little and his shoulder's tensed as he finished after a hesitant pause…" so that he can move on…."_

"_Move on?"_

"_I can't tie him down for ever Ellen, I might not be able to see it in his eyes anymore but I can still sense it, the hunter in him burning just below the surface. Like an animal whose been caged for to long he needs to run…. Hunt and feed off of the danger he finds out there. He doesn't need his blind little brother holding him back."_

"_He doesn't view you that way, no matter what you might think, you are not his burden, his job has been to protect you for his whole life, he's just taking his duties a little more serious now that you need him more." She reached out placing her hand over his, "But you still didn't answer my question, what do you want Sam? What is to become of you now?" Her voice was tender as she prodded. "Have you thought about yourself in any of this…."_

_Sam drew in a breath and exhaled before shaking in his head and then tilting it back a little causing the light to bounce off the dark lenses of his glasses and illuminate his chiseled features as he contemplated her question, "I guess it's the hunter in me, or maybe a little self pity, but I don't look past the end of the sunset." He scoffed a bitter tone edging its way into his voice, "I don't think about tomorrow, because I won't find myself disappointed if it never comes."_

_Ellen was grateful Sam could not see the frown that fell upon her lips at his statement, that was definitely no way a young man in his mid-twenties should feel about life. _

_Shaking her head she gave his fingers a squeeze finding her voice and making sure it carried a mother-esque tone "That stops now, you got me? you lost your sight and I don't know how that feels, but… You're not dead Sam." She reached up with her free hand and wiped a few hanging hairs off of his glasses and across his forehead, even if it wasn't of any benefit to him, it made her feel batter to do so, "and there is so much in this world out there for you, so much at your fingertips, you need to let go of this anger, this pain and find the light again."_

"_If only it were that simple."_

" _Have you given any thought about maybe picking up where you left off? Going back to school and living your life the way you originally intended to?"_

"_I donno, I mean I'm not the same person I was then"_

"_Of course you are! You're just better seasoned now." She attempted to lighten the mood giving his hand a pat, "The only way you are ever going to get your brother to move forward is if you take the first steps… Lead by example so to speak."_

"_Yeah," Sam nodded picking up his coffee and taking a long sip, only for a moment allowing his mind to take him to an alternate reality, to a place where happiness was more than just a word tucked inside a stale fortune cookie…._

_He thought about school, about a new life…. He imagined that even with this broken body he could once again have a purpose, and found a genuine smile pulling at his lips. _

_His thoughts turned to Dean, driving down the open road his duffel bag thrown sloppily in the back seat of his restored impala, thought about phone calls they would share and the visits they could have…. _

_He saw a life that though a little lonely, that would be better for the both of them._

_Hell, for the first time since the fire, Sam thought of himself as one day having a life at all. "Maybe you're right…" His tone was hardly a whisper, putting just the tiniest bit of faith into his sixty second day dream, "But first things first…. We gotta save the world again, or at least my world, and then I'll see about saving myself."_

_Leaning back against the chair now Ellen's eyes traveled up and down Sam a few times, for the first time since they had arrived she found hope arising inside her, a glimpse of the man this broken child had once been shining his way through even if it was only for this moment. _

_He was shattered beyond his years and there was a decade of pain bruising his soul, but still… she could see the fighter inside him, the survivor just itching to find his way home again and she would help him and guide him anyway she could. _


End file.
